


The Bonds That Shape Us

by RedxMoonxRose



Series: Bonds [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 38,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedxMoonxRose/pseuds/RedxMoonxRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn had always been different from her older twin brother, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Starting their first year at Hogwarts, however, was going to teach her exactly how much difference there was between the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step into the Wizarding World

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER ONE  
STEP INTO THE WIZARDING WORLD

 

Shoes slapped against cobblestone pathways whilst the light from the sun reflected off the numerous different coloured windows that showcased what their shops were selling. There were displays of spell books, potion ingredients and even shops selling telescopes, quills and rolls of parchment and even globes of the moon.

There were sounds of voices, squawks, rattles, swishes and everything associated with a large number of people. There were little children running past and slightly older children tugging and pulling their parents into the large amount of shops, some in muggle like clothing and others in more wizarding clothing, which was mostly cloaks in a variety of sizes, colours and designs.

“Right, what’s next pups?” Sirius Black asked, looking down at his children, as they walked out of Flourish and Blotts with their school books piled high in their arms.

Harry Potter-Black shifted the weight on his schoolbooks so that they rested on his hip, pushed up his rectangular shaped glasses, and dug his hand into his pocket before producing a crumpled piece of parchment and his eyes quickly darted across the inked writing on its surface. 

As Harry listed off the things they still had to get, his younger twin sister, Evelyn Potter-Black looked around, placing the books that they had just bought into her mokeskin pouch, which she had tied on one of her belt loops.

She had received the pouch from their uncle as an eleventh birthday present and it had been charmed with a summoning and an undetectable extension charm. With the amount of things that she had currently packed into it, she could probably fill a small cottage.

“Potage’s Cauldron Shop is right over here,” Harry said, pointing to a storefront where stacks of pewter, brass and copper cauldrons sparkled under the sunlight from behind the glass window.

After buying their copper cauldrons, for buying pewter cauldrons like their lists stated that they do would end up them getting clipped around the back of the head by their Aunt Andromeda, who had been the twins’ potions tutor, the twins set off for Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions for their uniforms, whilst their father took a peek in one of the many pet shops.

Evelyn was hoping that she would get an owl. The twin’s cousin, Neville Longbottom, had gotten a toad from his great-uncle Algernon once he had received his own letter from Hogwarts. He ended up naming him Trevor and Evelyn weren't _exactly_ sure where he had gotten the very muggle sounding name from.

Trevor was extremely tiny and disappeared from both Neville’s grasp and his sight more regularly than he did not, but Neville did love him all the same.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling old woman with peppered light red hair and soft dark brown eyes and she was dressed in mauve coloured robes.

“Hogwarts, dear?” she said, currently working on a piece of cloth. “Getting a lot here today, another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale face was standing on a footstool whilst an assistant was pinning up his long, plain black robes. Madam Malkin moved Harry on a stool next to him and then moved Evelyn next to Harry, waving her hand in the air to beckon another assistant forth.

Madam Malkin and the new assistant slipped long robes over their heads and knelt down to start pinning them to the right lengths for the two slightly shorter than average eleven-year-olds.

When Evelyn’s head was tilted to the left, it was then that she realised who the other boy was.

“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” replied Harry.

Evelyn wasn’t exactly sure how her brother hadn’t realised who the boy was, but unlike his twin, Harry hardly ever looked at their family’s tapestry, whilst Evelyn looked at it almost religiously.

The boy’s white blond hair was slicked back, his face was stern and slightly upturned so it looked like he was looking down at the world and on his right hand’s ring finger – a signet ring.

It was Draco Malfoy, the Heir Apparent to the Noble House of Malfoy.

“My father’s next door, buying my books and my mother’s up the street looking at wands. Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll persuade father into getting me one and then I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”

After a moment of silence from the two boys and only the sound of fabric rustling filling the shop, Draco continued. “Have _you_ got your own broom?”

“I’ve got a Comet Two Sixty.” said Harry, looking quite smug at this fact.

“ _I_ do also. Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you’ll be in yet?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders, flinching as Madam Malkin accidently stabbed him in the arm with her pin. The witch working on Evelyn’s robes had already stabbed her twice.

“Well, no one _really_ knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mhm,” Harry hummed, deciding to answer the Malfoy Heir with noises instead of words.

“That’s you done, my dears,” Madam Malkin said and Evelyn thanked her as she and Harry went to look for their father, who was hopefully still at one of the various pet shops. Thankfully, it didn’t take them long to find their father and they continued their shopping.

They bought the required telescopes, brass scales, crystal phials from Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment. They then went into Slug & Jiggers Apothecary to buy their dragonhide gloves and a large variety of potion ingredients.

They also bought potion-making kits, even though the kits weren’t listed on their supply lists, for some very _odd_ reason. Potion kits were extremely important for inspiring potionners.

They then went to buy their very first wands.

Ollivander’s Wand Shop was narrow and shabby. There was a single solitary wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. The shop itself was rather tiny and empty, except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. There were thousands, though, maybe more, of varying narrow boxes containing wands that were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop.

The whole place even had a thin layer of dust about it.

“I wondered when I’d be seeing you, Harry Potter. Evelyn Potter,” a soft voice called and Harry almost jumped in surprise whilst Evelyn was slightly more composed than her twin. Standing behind the counter was an elderly man with wide pale eyes that shone like moons through the gloom of the shop. He was simply staring at them.

Harry and Evelyn looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes with a faint frown across their lips. They very much disliked having their last name being shortened down to just Potter. They thought it a disgrace to their father, who had raised them since they were a year old.

Their father, who had once again, disappeared towards the various pet shops.

Mister Ollivander then went on to talk about their biological parent’s wands. That their mother had a wand made of willow and a core of dragon heartstring. That it had been ten and a quarter inches long, swishy and a nice wand for charm work. Their biological father’s wand had been made of mahogany and had a core of dragon heartstring, was eleven inches long, pliable. It had a little more power than that of their mother’s and was excellent for transfiguration.

He gave the twins no information about their father’s wand and whilst Harry looked confused at this, Evelyn nodded her head in agreement. It was disrespectful to give information about another witch or wizard’s wand whilst they were still alive and without their permission.

Mister Ollivander had now come so close that he was practically nose to nose with the twins. He was more in Harry’s face than he was in Evelyn’s though and they both knew the reason why as soon as a long pale finger brushed away Harry’s fringe and briefly touched the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

“I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it,” he said softly, removing his finger from Harry’s forehead and Harry took a step backwards. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… Well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do…”

Harry gently but forcefully pushed Evelyn forward slightly as Mister Ollivander pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out from his pocket. 

“Miss Potter. Which is your wand arm?”

Evelyn held up her left arm and she was measured from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and then around her head. As Mister Ollivander measured her, he said, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two uniforms, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand than that of your own.”

Evelyn looked down at the tape measure as it measured between her nostrils whilst Mister Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. Harry was moving his fringe back to cover his scar as better as he could with his short length hair.

“That will do,” he suddenly said and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Right then, Miss Potter. Try this one. Blackthorn wood and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a quick wave.”

Evelyn gingerly took the wand, suddenly feeling very nervous and moved to wave the wand just as Mister Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost instantly after he had handed it to her.

With each new wand, Evelyn was feeling more and more nervous like Mister Ollivander would suddenly turn to her and say that there was a mistake and that she was actually a squib and not a witch. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair. The more wands Mister Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become, the opposite to how Evelyn was feeling.

Their father had arrived sometime between Evelyn's fifteenth wand and her twenty-second. He was standing by Harry, who was sat on the window sill, playing a game of Exploding Snap. He was empty handed so Evelyn hoped that he had gotten their house-elf, Kreacher, to take whatever pets he had bought home – Evelyn was still hoping for an owl.

She didn’t like toads and she already had a kneazle – who she had named Garrison and everyone else called Garry – back home but she didn’t have an owl. Owls were better for delivering mail anyway, the mental image of a cat or toad delivering mail was quite amusing to the young witch.

The moment Mister Ollivander handed her a wand with an interesting combination – hornbeam wood and a phoenix feather core, twelve and three-quarter inches long with a rigid flexibility – Evelyn felt a sudden warmth past through her fingers and sweep throughout her body.

She slowly raised the wand above her head and brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of silvery glittering sparks fell from the end like water. Harry and their father whooped and clapped whilst Mister Ollivander had smiled and said that he expected Evelyn to be a very talented witch.

Harry had taken much longer than Evelyn had to find his wand – eleven inches long, made of holly and it possessed a phoenix feather core also. It was also nice and supple. When he did, the look on their father’s face told two different stories. He was pleased that Harry had his wand, he was just concerned about what Mister Ollivander had said _about_ the wand.

“How curious. How every curious. I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mister Potter. Every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather. Just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when it’s brother… why its brother gave you that scar.”

They both paid for their wands and brought boxes of wand polish along with wand holsters. After almost four hours of practising withdrawing their wands, the twins could produce their wands in a flourished way that looked skilled and eased.


	2. Fateful Encounter on the Hogwarts Express

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TWO  
FATEFUL ENCOUNTER ON THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS

Platform nine and three-quarters was lightly crowded, despite it only being nine o’clock in the morning and the Hogwarts Express left the station at eleven o’clock. There were dozens of children and their parents swarmed around benches, tables and various hawkers and stalls.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd. There were cats of possibly every colour that wound around and between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the crowd’s various babble and there was scraping of heavy trunks.

Evelyn flickered her eyes over to her brother who was looking around with the biggest grin she had ever seen across his face. Their father was behind them, holding the cages that held their new pets. Owls, just like Evelyn had hoped for. Harry had a beautiful snowy white owl that he had named Hedwig whilst Evelyn had a stunning tawny-buff coloured Eurasian eagle owl who she had named Saoirse.

“I’ll help you take your things onto the train. Neville should be here soon; you know how your grandmother gets with him.” Sirius said, walking past the twins and towards one of the passenger cars that were attached to the crimson red train.

He had to help them lift their trunks as they climbed into a narrow passageway between cabins. It was fairly easy to find an empty compartment in the middle of the car. Their trunks were stowed on the racks above the chairs and Evelyn removed Harry’s robes from his.

If she didn’t get Harry into his robes now, he would probably not get into them anytime soon. It didn’t take long for him to get changed although he groaned and muttered as he fitted himself into his new, plain black robes that would soon have his House colours displayed on.

When the twins were suddenly crushed into their father arms, Evelyn couldn’t help but sniffle as tears began to form in her eyes. This was going to be the first time in a long time that they wouldn’t be with their father.

Evelyn stepped out of the hug before her brother, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her robe, whilst Harry did the same thing after a few moments. Sirius’ eyes were bright and he had to clear his throat when he said goodbye.

“I love you, pups. Have fun, all right?” he smiled, shaking his hands through their hair.

They both croaked the words back to him and then watched him leave before turning towards the window to wave as he disappeared into the crowd of people.

It was then that the compartment door was slid open and there stood in the archway was a tall boy with short brown hair, a toad in one hand, the handle of his trunk in the other and an Heir Apparent signet ring on his right hand’s ring finger.

“Neville!” said Harry, smiling happily at the sight of their cousin and his best friend.

Harry helped Neville put his trunk away before sitting down on the dark red seats. Harry had pushed down the arm rest that was beside the two boys whilst Evelyn was using her own armrest to rest her feet on.

“ _The Tales of Beedle the Bard.”_

The old, well-kept, green leather bound book almost jumped into Evelyn’s hand which was inside of her pouch. The book was Evelyn’s favourite out of all her books.

It had been her mother’s.

The loud banging and clanking from within the pouch made both boys laugh as they imagined just what Evelyn had inside it. She poked her tongue at her brother once he said that she probably packed the entire Black library into her pouch and trunk before they had left.

She _had_ tried to pack some books from their library but their father had made her return them as there were family ‘ _secrets_ ’ in all of their books. She wouldn’t tell them that, though. Although she was fairly positive that all the books in the Black library had blood protection charms on them, so no-one outside of the Black family _could_ read them anyway.

Her father probably wanted her to socialise outside of the book world.

Around half past twelve, there was loud clattering outside in the corridor before the compartment door was slide open by a smiling, dimpled elderly woman, who was pushing an overly packed cart covered with a large variety of sweets and drinks.

“Anything off the cart, dears?”

Harry leapt to his feet at the sight of the treacle tarts that were displayed on the cart. He ended up with almost three of everything on the cart before laying everything across the medium sized square table that was positioned underneath the window.

Once Evelyn noticed that he had bought almost two dozen chocolate frogs, she quickly closed the open compartment’s door and windows before moving them across the table until they were directly in front of her.

Chocolate was her favourite and she liked collecting the cards, both for the information on them and the pictures of the famous witches and wizards. She opened the box, quickly grabbing the frog as it jumped from the box and bit into it, happily swallowing the large chunk of chocolate.

As she continued to bit into the chocolate, she examined the card that the frog had been sitting on whilst it had been inside of its sealed box.

Evelyn moved the card slightly as she read the name under the face of a man who had a long, pointy face. He also had a long, large sized nose and short almost bushy reddish-brown hair.

“Falco Aesalon.” she muttered, flipping the card around to read the information on the back that told her that Falco was the first ever recorded Animagus, able to transform himself into a Falcon.

Which Evelyn thought was ironic. Falco the _Falcon._

Harry looked up, a treacle tart in his hand, although most of it was probably around his mouth and not actually inside of his stomach, whilst Neville had popped a yellow-orange bean into his mouth before spitting it out violently into a handkerchief that was draped across his lap.

“Vomit. Why vomit? I would have been happier with a grass bean,” he muttered, biting into a pumpkin pasty that would hopefully replace the taste of the vomit flavoured Bertie Bott bean.

As Evelyn bit into another chocolate frog, their compartment door was slid open. This time, instead of the elderly woman with the sweet cart, there was a girl with shoulder length bushy brown hair and dark brown eyes to match. The plain black robes told them that she was going to be in their year during their time at Hogwarts.

Evelyn saw Neville jab Harry in the ribs slightly once he caught him staring at the girl’s rather large front teeth before she groaned as a chocolate frog escaped through the now open compartment door, hopping away towards freedom that didn’t involve being eaten in any way.

It was only then that Evelyn noticed that the girl had her trunk handle in her hand.

“Do you mind if I sit with you? The girls I was sitting with… they…” she paused before deciding that asking probably wasn’t the better idea and went to close the compartment door when Harry moved with a speed that was thanks to all his Quidditch games back home.

“Sit. We have enough space,” he smiled, taking the trunk from her hands and shoving it onto the racks before she had time to even react or speak.

As the girl took a seat by Evelyn, the one that was nearest to the compartment door as Evelyn still had her feet propped up on the armrest next to her, she ran her hands across her robes, brushing away any wrinkles or creases.

“I’m Hermione Granger. Thank you,” she said.

“This is my cousin, Neville Longbottom, my sister Evelyn and I’m Harry Potter-Black.” said Harry. The same smile that was his face previously was back once again when the girl – Hermione – noticed the name, looked up at his forehead but didn’t say anything, she just looked back at everyone else, looking completely unfazed by who Harry was.

“Do… Does any of you know how we get sorted into our Houses? Everyone I’ve asked tells me something different each time but they also add their comments about the Houses. I don’t really mind what House I’m in, I’m just here to learn what I can and…” she stopped, realising that she had been rambling on for the past minute and nervously ran her fingers across her robes again.

Harry smiled as he swallowed the last of his newest treacle tart.  

“None of us really know, actually. It’s sort of a secret. It doesn’t have to be, but most families like to keep the Sorting a secret for traditional reasons. Dad always jokes about it. Once he said that we would have to dress up a werewolf in a pink tutu.”

Hermione blinked in surprise and Evelyn noted a hint of worry and fear flash through her eyes just as she blinked, the hint of worry and fear no longer visible.

“ _He was just doing that to tease our uncle, though. Probably…”_ Harry muttered, before turning his attention back to the young muggleborn witch with a smile, “Don’t worry, it should be fine.”

Hermione nodded, uncertain about Harry’s answer, “Are you all magically raised children then?”

“I’m a pureblood,” Neville smiled. “Evelyn and Harry are half-bloods.”

“Nobody in my family is magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard. I’ve learnt all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. All the _things_ that would happen around me when I was either angry, happy or upset, they are finally explainable.”

Harry and Neville shared a glance between themselves, clearly surprised that Hermione had said that all in one breath.

“It’s called accidental magic.” Evelyn said, her face once again practically buried inside of her book, her eyebrows barely visible over the top.

Harry laughed, remembering his favourite case of accidental magic. “I was about six and during our History lessons, I ended up turning our uncle’s hair bright blue.”

“I accidental fell out of a window and ended up bouncing on the floor.”

Hermione looked extremely shocked at Neville’s example of accidental magic.

“Magical children aren’t as easily broken as non-magical children, Miss Granger.”

“Miss Granger?” Hermione blinked, clearly not accustomed to the formalities of the noble wizarding families.

Evelyn sighed before moving her legs so her feet were finally placed on the floor, her posture subtly switching from casual to a posher and dignified pose. She closed her book shut after placing a bookmark on her page, placing her hands on top of the closed book in her lap.

“It is quite rude to address someone by their given name if they have not given permission. At least it _is_ for wizarding families. I do not believe the same is said for non-magical families. My knowledge of non-magical families is very limited; despite the fact, my mother came from one.”

“Oh, well… call me Hermione. Please.” Hermione smiled, holding her hand out to Evelyn.

Gripping the offered hand, Evelyn gave it a shake before nodding at the young muggleborn witch that was sat beside her. “Then you may call me Evelyn, Hermione.”

A comfortable silence filled the compartment as the countryside consisted more of wild fields rather than grazed land. There were woods, twisting rivers and towering hills.

Before long, darkness started to fall and the four occupants began to pack up their belongings into their trunks, with Harry packing the leftover sweets into his own trunk.

“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.” a voice echoed throughout the train.

Evelyn wasn’t exactly sure how she felt leaving her belongings behind, but her most important belongings were all safely tucked away in her pouch, so she shrugged it off. With a final glance over the compartment, Evelyn followed behind her brother who had already made his way out into the corridor where everyone else was already standing, waiting for the train to finally stop.


	3. Lion, Beaver, Eagle or Snake

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER THREE  
LION, BEAVER, EAGLE OR SNAKE

As soon as the Hogwarts express came to a jerking stop, the whistle let out two loud, long notes just as students began to pour out of the train cars and onto the platform.

After a few moments, the crowd that had exited the train turned and started to make their way along the platform. It wasn’t long before a tall, bearded man bellowed out above the other noises in a commanding voice, “First-year students over ‘ere now if you could. Don’t be goin’ with the other years,” he instructed as he held up a large lantern so all the students could see him clearly.

He stood there, taller than any of the gathered students and waited for the others to clear off and move down the road where there were carriages waiting to take them around the lake to the school, which was situated at the farthest point from Hogsmeade.

He had long tangles of bushy black hair and his black beard hid most of his face although his dark eyes glinted like black beetles. He had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins.

It was Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.

“Right then,” Hagrid said, clearing his throat once. “Follow me then and be sure to watch where yer goin’! It wouldn’t do atall’ if one of you were to fall in the lake.”

Turning, he led the students out upon a pier that jutted out into the dark waters of the lake.

“Now be careful when you step into the boats. Four of ya to a boat ought to be plenty. No need to be pushing or shovin’ now there’s plenty room for everyone,” he assured them.

As they stepped out onto the pier, the last ones in line, Evelyn saw that the boats were rather small and painted a dark brown. She waited until Harry, Neville and Hermione were seated before she eased herself down to be seated next to Hermione.

Hagrid had then slowly walked down the length of the pier and then stopped before going out that far upon seeing that everyone had made it safely into the boats already.

“Once we reach the other side make sure yer just as careful steppin’ from the boat as yer were getting’ in them,” he instructed them. When satisfied that he had done all that he needed to, he climbed into the middle boat which had been left empty for him.

Then, without a single word or visible gesture, all the boats started to move and drift out onto the lake which was reflecting the moon's light.

Some of the other students gasped and squealed in delight as the boats propelled themselves by magic, without making a single noise as they slid through small waves upon the lake surface.

As they neared the centre of the lake, everyone started to exclaim loudly and point. Ahead of them, perched high on a hilltop overlooking the lake, sat a large castle. There were far too many towers and turrets thrusting up into the night sky to clearly count them all.

The windows in the tall buildings were all aglow with light that seemed both warm and welcoming to the young first-year students.

As they neared the hill upon which the castle stood, they passed through an opening which was partially hidden by hanging ivy and travelled through a tunnel till they found themselves within an underground harbour behind the school. One by one the small boats pulled up to a short dock and the students disembarked.

“Just follow the path and it will lead you to the stairs by the boathouse,” the gamekeeper’s deep voice rang out in the quiet night as he held up his lantern. “Proceed up the stairs and Professor McGonagall will meet you at the top,” he instructed, repeating his sentence every so often to ensure everyone heard him and knew what to do.

As soon as they were at the top of the stairs, they saw an ageing bespectacled witch that was dressed in emerald green robes and wore a pointed hat that was cocked to one side and had greying black hair that was combed back into a tight bun. The ‘no-nonsense’ expression upon the dark haired witch’s face made Evelyn feel like she was staring at her grandmother, Augusta Longbottom.

“Good evening first-year students and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House. In just a few moments, we will enter the Great Hall and you will be sorted into your Houses. The Houses here at Hogwarts are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

The elderly professor’s eyes swept through the crowd, ensuring she had everyone’s attention.

“While you are here, your House will be like your family. You will take classes with your other House members, sleep in the dormitories with your House members as well as spend time in your House’s common room. Each House has a long and noble history which I am certain you will strive to uphold for whichever House you’re sorted into. Your triumphs, academically as well as in Quidditch, will earn your House points,” she told them as she clasped her hands before her waist and surveyed the youngsters before her.

“Likewise, your failures will also cause your House to lose points. At the end of the term, the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup and the honour associated with it. You will be able to see how many points each House has from the hourglasses that are positioned in the back of the Great Hall.”

Professor McGonagall then paused, letting the information sink in before she told them to wait where they were whilst she went to see if everything was ready for them, disappearing through a doorway that was only a short distance away from where they were all stood.

The moment she was gone; everyone began to talk amongst themselves. Neville had almost rammed Trevor into his pocket. Harry was tugging a piece of his fringe with his fingers, hoping to conceal his scar slightly better. Hermione was running her fingers through her hair and straightening her robes and tie.

Evelyn noticed a face that was familiar to her, who was talking and laughing with two slightly larger framed boys. Draco Malfoy.

She had only briefly met the Heir Apparent to the Noble House of Malfoy when they were getting fitted for their Hogwarts robes, although _he_ had done most of the talking.

It was almost like he knew she was looking at him because he turned his head to face her and Evelyn suddenly found herself staring into greyish blue eyes. When Professor McGonagall finally walked back through the doorway that she had disappeared through before, was when Evelyn finally looked away from Draco Malfoy.

“They are ready for you now,” she informed them. “Once we’re inside, when you hear your name called please come forward and have a seat upon the chair. I will place the Sorting Hat upon your head and it will decide which House you’re to be in. Once that is known you may step down and have a seat at your House’s table. Are there any questions?”

She paused for a long moment before continuing once she realised no one did in fact, have any questions. “Very well then, please follow me,” the Professor instructed them before turning and leading them through the door that she had previously disappeared through herself.

They were led into the castle and brought into a room that Evelyn took to be an antechamber. Professor McGonagall then slipped out for one final check to ensure all was in readiness. There were a set of large doors beyond which Evelyn could hear the murmuring of hundreds of voices.

Suddenly something chillingly cold passed through her and several of the other students screamed as a group of pearly-white and slightly transparent ghosts moved through the room. There were roughly fifteen or twenty of them and they all glided through the air, talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first year students.

The doors slowly swung open and Professor McGonagall reappeared, motioned for all of them to follow after her. She led them through the middle of the hall and towards the front of the room. Every first-year student’s face was gazing upwards in awestruck wonder at the magical sight that suddenly revealed itself to them as they stepped from the anteroom into a room where the new term feast was waiting to start.

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was illuminated by thousands upon thousands of candles that were floating in the air above the four rows of tables that sat students from older years, all dressed in black robes that had their House’s main colour proudly displayed in the lining, with their House emblem upon their breast and plain black pointed hats perched upon their heads.

At one end of the hall, raising slightly above the others, was a table at which all of the professors sat. Although Evelyn had already known that the ceiling was bewitched to appear as the night sky above Hogwarts from her books, it was still a spectacular sight to see.

Professor McGonagall then placed a four-legged wooden stool before them and then placed a rather old and worn looking hat upon it. As everyone in the hall was looking at the hat, it suddenly began to sing from a rip near the brim that opened wide like a mouth.

_“Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!”_

When the hat’s song ended, there was a sudden eruption of cheering and clapping from all the students and several of the teachers sat at the table.

“When your name is called, have a seat and I will place the Sorting Hat upon your head,” Professor McGonagall instructed them and that’s when Evelyn heard someone behind her mutter something about someone lying to them about fighting a troll.

From where Evelyn stood with Harry, Neville and Hermione, she was able to pretty much follow what was happening in front of everyone, despite being the smallest one in the entire group.

The first two students, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, both went to Hufflepuff and were warmly welcomed and Evelyn watched as the lining on their robes turned yellow, their House’s emblem appeared upon their breasts and their previously plain coloured ties, turned yellow and black to match that of the Hufflepuff House.

The following two, Terry Bott and Mandy Brocklehurst, were both sorted off to Ravenclaw.

Lavender Brown became the newest Gryffindor and the rest of the Gryffindor House had exploded with cheers that echoed throughout the Great Hall.

Millicent Bulstrode became the newest Slytherin and then Michael Corner went into Ravenclaw.

Vincent Crabbe joined Millicent in Slytherin and then Justin Finch-Fletchley went to Hufflepuff, followed by Seamus Finnigan who went to Gryffindor. Anthony Goldstein was sorted into Ravenclaw and Gregory Goyle was then sorted into Slytherin.

When Hermione’s name was called, she ran full tilt towards the Sorting Hat, picked it up and jammed the patchy old cloth work down hard over her head. It had only taken a few moments for it to sort Hermione into Ravenclaw. Evelyn caught a glimpse of her taking her seat at the Ravenclaw table, just as she was wiping fresh tears from her eyes.

Daphne Greengrass was sorted into Slytherin and then it was Neville’s turn. As he was so nervous, he almost tripped several times as he walked towards the Hat and then almost tripped several more times as he made his way over to the Hufflepuff table.

Evelyn smiled at her cousin as he took a seat at the Hufflepuff table and Harry was waving at him with a huge grin on his face. Morag MacDougal was then sorted into Ravenclaw and Ernest Macmillan was sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Draco Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall called out.

Draco had smirked as he almost swaggered his way towards the Sorting Hat.

Professor McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat from the stool as the youngest Malfoy sauntered up and took a seat. As the hat was lowered to his head it screamed, “Slytherin!”, just as it had brushed up against his hair.

Draco then jumped up from the wooden stool with a grin and quickly made his way over to the Slytherin table to be seated with the two boys he had been previously speaking with; Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Lily Moon then went to Hufflepuff. Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson were sorted into Slytherin. Padma Patil was sorted into Ravenclaw whilst her identical twin sister, Parvati, was sorted into Gryffindor. Sally-Ann Perks was then sorted into Gryffindor.

“Evelyn Potter-Black,” Professor McGonagall said and suddenly the hall grew incredibly quiet.

Evelyn wasn’t even The-Boy-Who-Lived like her brother, so she wasn’t exactly sure why they had all gone incredibly quiet and turned their full, undivided attention towards her.

Perhaps it was because she was from both the Noble House of Potter and the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, where almost all Blacks had supported Voldemort during the war.

“Evelyn Potter-Black, please step forth and take a seat,” Professor McGonagall repeated.

Evelyn sighed before stepping around an auburn haired girl who waiting to be sorted and made her way towards the wooden stool. She could already hear the whispers starting up throughout the Great Hall. Upon reaching the Sorting Hat, Professor McGonagall lifted it up and Evelyn climbed onto the stool.

Her emerald green eyes fell upon her brother who winked at her and she replied with her own small smile, as the Sorting Hat was dropped onto her head.

 _What do we have here? Such an astounding mind, you would do well in Ravenclaw, that’s for sure. But I also see true bravery and courage, perhaps even the sacrificial kind. There’s a depth of loyalty more students could have themselves. What’s this? There is also a certain willingness to do what you have to in order to achieve your goals. I have never seen such a well-balanced mind, Miss Potter-Black,_ an unfamiliar voice within Evelyn’s head suddenly spoke, as if it were reading a book and giving a running commentary of what it saw back to her.

Evelyn had almost felt the moment that the Sorting Hat had chosen her House. There was a chill that ran down her spine and she felt the hat move slightly and if she was standing in a place where she could see the hat, she was sure that she might even see it grin.

“Slytherin!”


	4. Where One Belongs

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER FOUR  
WHERE ONE BELONGS

 

There were a few short, sharp gasps originating from several different places around the Great Hall and even Professor McGonagall had staggered at the podium, before gripping it tightly for support. Evelyn was very aware of the fact that only the Slytherin table, Neville and Harry were clapping. Hermione only looked slightly surprised.

She had already figured out part of Evelyn’s personality during the train ride, after all.

“Harry Potter-Black,” Professor McGonagall called out after consulting the scroll in her hand briefly. The stunned silence of the rest of the Great Hall which still hung within the hall made the stern professor’s voice seem overly louder than usual.

Evelyn smiled upon hearing her brother’s name being called and turned to watch as he stepped forward and took his seat upon the stool to have the Sorting Hat placed upon his head. When the hat then called out that Harry’s House was Gryffindor after several minutes, Evelyn clapped along with the other House tables - except Slytherin - as her brother made his way towards them.

Although her clapping wasn’t nearly as loud or crazy as that of the Gryffindors, many of whom were yelling at the top of their lungs, “We got Potter!” with glee.

There were only four people left to be sorted now. Dean Thomas joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. The auburn haired girl from before, Lisa Turpin, became a Ravenclaw.

“Ronald Weasley,” Professor McGonagall called, turning to watch as the boy stepped forth.

Evelyn watched as a tall, lanky red-haired boy with large hands and feet, a long nose and a freckled complexion that surrounded blue eyes, nervously took the seat.

He was also wearing hand me down robes.

They could see the moment the hat began talking to him, for he had almost completely unseated himself from the stool. There was a split second pause before it loudly exclaimed, “Gryffindor!”

The boy she now knew to be called Ronald Weasley quickly got up and made his way towards the Gryffindor table only to be met with handshakes, slaps on the back and congratulations. A slightly embarrassed and overwhelmed Ronald took a seat at the table next to what looked to be his three older brothers.

The last person to be sorted was Blaise Zabini and he was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall then rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

“I guess it’s true what they say.”

Evelyn paused, turning her head slightly as she came face to face with Draco Malfoy, who had managed to move across almost half of the table to be seated next to her without her even noticing – Uncle Remus would have been very disappointed.

“What is true?” Evelyn asked, trailing her finger around the rim of her goblet.

“That only the best witches and wizards are sorted into Slytherin. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“It is true that Merlin was in Slytherin but not every powerful witch or wizard has been. Professor Dumbledore was sorted into Gryffindor when he was a student.”

Draco frowned slightly, “My father says Professor Dumbledore isn’t that powerful, not as powerful as everyone makes him out to be, anyway. There for it would make sense that he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

Arching an eyebrow, Evelyn stared at the boy sat in front of her.

“I do believe that I did _not_ in fact, ask for your father’s opinion.”

He was most definitely not expecting that response for his face changed expressions from a frown into a scowl then back into a frown before he decided to leave Evelyn and walked back to sit with his friends, Vincent and Gregory, who were seated halfway down the table.

Evelyn shook her head as he walked away and then looked down at the golden plate and utensils before her as an aged man with a long white beard stood and offered a few words and as soon as he was finished, the tables were suddenly covered in all manner of food.

The great hall nearly vibrated with the volume of conversation that went on around her. There were much laughter and good-natured teasing between the new students as well as those in the higher years. In time the food was replaced with an array of desserts and Evelyn discreetly looked down the long table, the corners of her lips upturning slightly at what she had found.

As she reached over the table, there was a sudden shriek of terror. Looking out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn saw a horribly disfigured ghost hovering over the food and directly in Pansy Parkinson’ face. The ghost had blank, almost glass-like eyes, a gaunt face and black robes stained with silver blood. Evelyn had heard about the tales of the ghost of Slytherin House.

Her father had said that he, Uncle Remus and Evelyn’s biological father, James, had always taken bets with each other over the tales behind the blood that stained the robes of the Bloody Baron.

“Parkinson,” the blank-eyed ghost said eerily, staring into Pansy’s dark brown eyes. The Bloody Baron then greeted the other Slytherin first years, in a very solemnly tone of voice. After he greeted Draco, who was the thirty-second generation of Malfoys apparently, his deadened eyes caught Evelyn’s and he slowly floated over to her. “Well, well. In all of my days, I would have never thought a _Potter_ would grace our vaulted House. Welcome, Evelyn Potter.”

“Well meet, Bloody Baron. I thank you.” Evelyn replied, politely, before turning her attention to the scones that she had piled high onto her plate. She ran a finger around the cream and jam centre and popped her finger into her mouth, savouring the lightly sweetened taste.

There was a moment of brief pause from the other Slytherin first years as they all began to pick at the desserts that decorated the table when suddenly Theodore Nott perked up in his seat, cleared his throat rather loudly and said, “My family are all purebloods.”

Evelyn paused briefly, glancing at the brunette. She briefly wondered if Harry and Neville had already begun the blood status part of the conversation in their houses, but it was fairly unlikely as no-one in the other houses really cared enough anymore, it was just Slytherins nowadays.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts, the elderly man that had spoken early, eventually stood from his throne-like chair and within moments, the hall was silent and everyone had stilled their motions.

“Ahem… just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few start of term notices to give. First-year students should note that the forest located on the grounds is strictly off limits.” Professor Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he pointedly looked towards the Gryffindor table as he added, “A fact some of our older students would be wise to remember.”

Two Weasley look a likes seemed to hunch lower in their seats in a vain attempt to become invisible, their faces slightly brightening to match that of their vivid red hair.

“Quidditch trials will be held during the second week of term, should you be so inclined to try out for your House’s team. Mister Filch, our caretaker, has asked that I remind everyone that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes,” the Headmaster stated with a small grin. “Lastly,” the elder wizard offered as the smile slipped from his face to be replaced by the most serious of expressions, “for this year, the third-floor corridor on the right is off limits to anyone who does not want to die a most gruesome death.”

There was a wave of low muttering within the hall upon hearing this announcement. The Headmaster then suddenly had his wand in his hand. “Now before we call it a night, let us all sing the school song!” he proclaimed loudly and quite happily.

From where Evelyn sat, she couldn’t help but noticed that several of the professors seemed to have affixed smiles upon their faces once they heard the Headmasters words and watched him flick his wand as a long golden ribbon flew out of the end, rising high above the tables and twisting itself into words that could be seen from anywhere in the Great Hall.

_“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald,_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling,_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now, they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot.”_

Everyone in the hall had finished singing, but the Weasley twins, who continued on for several lines in the darkest of funeral dirges which only seemed to delight the aged Headmaster of Hogwarts to no end.

Once the song had finished there was a loud round of cheering which went on for what seemed like several minutes. Eventually, the Headmaster raised his hands and signalled for quiet once more. “Now, if the House Prefects would be so kind as to escort the members of your Houses to their common rooms, I believe we shall call it an evening. Classes will begin bright and early on Monday morning,” Professor Dumbledore smiled as he addressed the entire student body.

“First years,” a voice near the end of the Slytherin table called, drawing Evelyn’s attention from the Headmaster. “I am Gemma Farley, one of the Prefects for Slytherin. Stay close to me as it wouldn’t do to lose one or two of you before we make it to the commons,” the older girl told them with a barely hidden sneer.

She gave the impression that losing one or two of them wouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest, so Evelyn made sure to stick close to the group and not get lost.

Following the rest of the Slytherin first years, who in turn followed Gemma, they made their way down into the dungeons of the castle. The Slytherin Prefect paused before a blank wall and spoke the password which for the next three weeks would be, _‘Bezoar’._

Bricks in the wall quickly began to move part, reshaping into a doorway that Gemma swung open and stepped through, waving her hand slightly for everyone else to follow her in.

Evelyn stepped through the door and found herself standing at the top of a wide stairway that emptied out into a grand room. The room itself was decorated in tapestries and old painting with silver lanterns suspended from the vaulted ceiling, shedding lighting across the entire room.

There were large windows across the room depicting nothing but darkness as far as she could tell, but that was probably due to the fact that it was dark outside currently.

As she slowly walked down the widening steps, Evelyn could see that the common room of Slytherin had several large plush black leather couches, two of which were positioned before the enormous fireplace which dominated one wall. A charm must have been placed on it as the flames burned brightly with several different shades of green rather than their typical merry yellow, orange and red colours.

There was also a large round dark wooden table that could easily seat a dozen students around its circumference. There were other tables, chairs and couches situated about the room where smaller groups of individuals might relax or pursue their studies.

There was even a small chess set placed upon a table off to one side where the game pieces were emerald and silver, instead of their traditional white and black.

Evelyn noted that the pictures and tapestries were all images of past Slytherin’s depicted in heroic scenes, which she wasn’t sure were true to historic events or not.

“Through that arch over there are the dormitories,” Prefect Gemma told them as she pointed to a large ornately carved stone archway. “Boys are to the left, girls to the right. You’ll find facilities for bathing and what not in your rooms. If any of you boys should happen to wander into the wrong dormitory, there is a caterwauling charm placed upon the doorways. Professor Snape, our head of House, doesn’t take kindly to those getting caught by it.”

Evelyn heard several students that were older and who had stayed to listen to the Prefect, snicker at her words. Listening to their hushed comments, they were talking about how it was alright to sneak into the opposite sexes dormitory so long as one were careful enough not to get caught.

Thinking back to what the Prefect had said, their Head of House was apparently only bothered by those that were stupid enough to get caught.

“Breakfast in the great hall starts at seven o’clock,” Prefect Gemma told the first years gathered around her. “Your first class begins promptly at eight o’clock on Monday so don’t be late,” she warned in a tone that left no room for argument. “Being late to class can cost your House points if the professor instructing the class is so inclined. If you start costing our House points you’ll soon find yourself having a very unpleasant time.”

The older girl’s eyes swept over the first year students in what was a clear and evident threat.

“Now, your first class will be,” she paused to regard a scroll she had in her hand, “Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall and her House, Gryffindor. I would advise you all be on time as the head of Gryffindor House would love to deduct points from Slytherin to aide her own House. If any of you do not know how to set your wand to wake you up, stick around and I’ll show you. The rest, off to bed with you.”

Green, murky light spilt from the torches lining the spiral staircase. Every time the steps levelled off, there was a black door with a silver snake knocker on them denoting a different year’s dormitory. Once the Slytherin first year girls had climbed down to the bottom of the staircase, a heavy black door swung open.

There were large dark wooden four poster canopied beds that had bedspreads embroidered with silver thread and heavy dark green curtains pinned back at each corner. On one side of the bed was a chest of lockable drawers and a lockable nightstand whilst on the other side of the bed was a desk with a wooden chair situated before it.

Next to the desk was the next person’s chest of drawers and so it continued around the room. At the end of one of the beds, Evelyn spied her trunk, which was a large black, heavily charmed trunk that was much like her Mokeskin pouch. _Much_ larger inside than it looked.

Sconces of green magical fire lit the room with a viridian tinge and there were curtains pulled back from dark windows and drapes with the Slytherin crest hanging from the walls.

It had been a long and eventful day and she, along with her Housemates, quickly changed into their sleeping attire before climbing into their new beds. Gemma stuck her head in the door and told them it was lights out time, she then waved her wand and all the lights in the room dimmed and went out save one nearest to the door.

As Evelyn lay for the first time in her new bed, she caught the faintest of sounds. As she strained to hear it better, she suddenly remembered that Slytherin House was underneath the lake. She quickly set her wand to wake her at five o’clock as she liked to have a morning jog before the day started, and took off her wand holster and placed it along with her wand and pouch on the nightstand beside her bed.

She then slowly slipped off to sleep to the soothing sounds of the Great Lake.


	5. A Budding Friendship

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER FIVE  
A BUDDING FRIENDSHIP

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said as she addressed the gathered Slytherins and Gryffindors that were currently sat at the wooden desks which were in four rows of three. “Any student that disrupts my class will leave, _permanently_. You have been warned.”

Even Professor McGonagall’s own House looked quite intimidated by the stern professor. Evelyn noticed a few Slytherins that were also intimidated but they quickly covered it up before somebody else saw. It wasn’t very Slytherin to show weaknesses.

The first thing Professor McGonagall then did was change her desk into a live pig before turning it back into her plain wooden desk once again.

“You will not be attempting something like that for a long time. What we _are_ doing today is attempting to turn a matchstick into a needle. First things first, though, wands away and quills out.”

Evelyn glanced at the chalkboard before proceeding to take down three pages of step by step instructions on how to turn the matchstick into a needle, and she couldn’t help but think back to the length of instructions she used to have to write down when she was taught by her family members.

She then placed her quill into her inkwell and looked down at the matchstick which had been placed on her desk.

Closing her eyes, Evelyn imagined a thin silver needle in place of the wooden matchstick. As she opened her eyes, she took her wand from its holster and pointed it at the matchstick. She then rolled her wand with her thumb and index finger a half-turn to the left as she spoke the required incantation as clearly as she could.

“ ** _Cuspis!_** _”_

Evelyn watched as the matchstick slowly morphed into a thin silver needle and out of the corner of her eye, she saw another matchstick start to glimmer in the light and she then raised her hand into the air. To her left, she also saw her brother raise his hand into the air with a large grin sprawled across his face.

“Yes?” Professor McGonagall asked as she came over to stand between the two of them. “What is it, Mister Potter-Black, Miss Potter-Black?”

“I have a needle, Professor,” Harry smiled, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, excellent!” she exclaimed, breaking her stoic demeanour for a moment, picking up Harry’s transfigured needle. “You, Miss Potter-Black?” she asked, placing the needle back onto Harry’s desk and turning towards Evelyn, her stoic demeanour slowly appearing once again.

“I also have a needle, Professor,” Evelyn said, briefly pointing towards the sharp object.

“Wonderful,” Professor McGonagall said as she turned around and held up the two needles to the class. “Miss Potter-Black and Mister Potter-Black have successfully turned their matchsticks into needles and have both earned a house point each for their Houses. For homework, the rest of you will practice this spell. I expect you all to be able to properly perform this transfiguration by our next class.”

After lunch, Slytherin had a fifty-minute lesson of Herbology with Hufflepuff and to get there they had to exit the castle and make their way to the numerous amount of greenhouses outside. There, Professor Sprout, who was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair, and even had large amounts of earth on her clothes and underneath her fingernails, greeted them cheerily and set them to work almost immediately.

Neville had the biggest smile on his face as he went to work, transplanting asphodel plants between pots and then clipping two dangling roots that were to be powdered later on.

Evelyn had expected the lesson to go by slowly, but before she had even realised the time, Professor Sprout made them stop their work and tidy up, but not before awarding five points to Hufflepuff for Neville’s knowledge about the plants that Professor Sprout had scattered around her greenhouse in various pots and hanging from the glass panel ceiling.

Since she now had the rest of the day free of any lessons, Evelyn set off for the library. She wasn’t really sure what she expected to find but she at least knew that there would be some books in the Hogwarts library that were not in the Black library. _Currently_ anyway.

“Hello, Evelyn.”

Evelyn peered over the stack of books currently piled up high in her arms and spotted the bushy hair belonging to Hermione Granger of Ravenclaw.

“Good evening, Hermione.” Evelyn said, placing the books onto the table where Hermione was sat, surrounded by her own variety of library books that ranged from books about Transfiguration to books about Potions.

There were even books about flying and Quidditch beside a towering pile of parchment.

“Classes have been… Well, really they have been extraordinary.”

Evelyn nodded, pulling out a large grey notebook from her pouch that Uncle Remus had gifted her before she started her school year at Hogwarts. She had a couple dozen different notebooks stored away inside of her pouch that she used for different lessons, whilst a few were just covered in drawings and doodles she had done when she had the time or was bored.

Written across the top of the notebook Evelyn had just withdrawn from her pouch were the words, _Spells and Charms,_ and underneath the title was a carefully and detailed drawing of a stack of books with an owl perched on top of them.

Hermione had taken note of the drawing but said nothing, returning her attention to her own work with a small smile that arched her lips upwards slightly, as Evelyn unlocked the book.

The young witches briefly exchanged conversation with one another, both of them more focused on their books and finishing whatever they were doing with them. After Evelyn had finished, she withdrew a piece of parchment from her pouch and began to write a short letter to her father who would more than likely relay the information to her family.

_Dear Father,_

_I have been sorted into Slytherin House whilst Harry is in Gryffindor and Neville is a Hufflepuff. None of us have acted any differently than how we were before our Sortings. I have even made an acquaintance, a Ravenclaw who is also a muggleborn witch. Her name is Hermione Granger._

_I miss everyone dearly and cannot wait until we see each other once again._

_Love Sincerely,_   
_Evelyn_

_P.S – I’ve attached a scroll of parchment with titles of books that I hope I may have._

As Evelyn rolled up the letter, Hermione had finished her work and had also written her own letter to both her parents. Although she did not in fact completely understand how the school owls would deliver it to her parents.

“They are magical owls, Hermione, they just _know_.”

Hermione nodded, accepting the answer which could also be translated as, ‘ _magic. Just accept it’_ , and followed behind Evelyn as she led the way to the Owlery Tower. As soon as they had reached the Owlery, Evelyn saw that Saoirse was standing on a nearby perch like she had been waiting for them. Evelyn moved towards her with a smile and Saoirse let out a low hoot the moment Evelyn’s fingers brushed against her feathers.

“Can you take this to dad for me, Saoirse?” Evelyn asked softly, reaching into her robes pocket to retrieve her rolled up letter.

Saoirse let out an indignant hoot before holding her leg out, allowing Evelyn to tie the letter to it. As soon as the letter was secure, however, Saoirse did not take flight, instead, she stood on her perch like she was still waiting for something.

“Hermione?” Evelyn said with a smile. “Do you want Saoirse to take your letter to your parents?”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide as she bobbed her head with a smile. As soon as Hermione tied her own letter to Saoirse’s leg, she took flight, circling over the two young witches once before flying off into the sky and vanishing behind the many gathering clouds.


	6. Discoloured Smoke and a Melted Cauldron

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER SIX  
DISCOLOURED SMOKE AND A MELTED CAULDRON

 

The rest of the week flew past in a haze of classes, which were a mixture of sometimes mundane and sometimes interesting. Evelyn found that the only reason she could ever find her classes was due to her morning jogs but the stairs still had the extremely annoying habit of moving around whenever she needed to use them to get to her next class. She rather hated Rowena Ravenclaw for coming up with the idea.

Evelyn found it hard to engage in her Herbology lessons. She loved plants, there was no doubt about that, but some parts of Herbology – such as the lessons that focused solely on trimming various plants – could get a bit repetitive after a time. She knew that learning how to trim various plants would be important for Potions, but none of the plants were even remotely dangerous, so the potential risk factor was limited.

History of Magic was by _far_ the worst subject that Evelyn was learning at Hogwarts. She generally managed to stay awake long enough to make notes on the topics that might come up in future exams, but she usually chalked it down to being a sponge for information, and that after she had learnt everything she needed to know, she would start to doze off like the rest of her classmates.

There were only so many times one could hear about the goblin rebellions before it became dull, and it was quickly approaching that point.

Charms and Transfiguration were highly enjoyable for the young Slytherin. Charms, in particular, had proven to be particularly intriguing, with Professor Flitwick, managing to make the subject highly entertaining whilst at the same time still getting across what he was attempting to teach.

The only downside to the class so far had been the first lesson; when he had been reading the register and came to Evelyn’s name, he had given an excited squeak and subsequently toppled off of his desk. She later found out that he had done the exact same thing during Harry’s first class.

Transfiguration, on the other hand, was a much more serious subject, but it was still enjoyable, even when Professor McGonagall would take some time to get on to the most interesting aspects of the course.

No matter how much Evelyn had been looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, they hadn’t been _nearly_ as interesting as when her uncle had been teaching her. Professor Quirrell had the potential to be a somewhat interesting teacher, but his constant stutter often made it hard for anyone to understand what he was talking about.

Professor Quirrell may have found it hard at times to get his point across, but he still did _seem_ to know what he was doing, at least. Although his obsession with garlic seemed to be more than slightly over the top at times, even with his claims that they were to ward off a vampire that he had come across whilst travelling in Romania.

He seemed to even have garlic _inside_ of his turban.

Potions lessons took place down in the dungeons and Evelyn found it even colder inside the classroom than in the Slytherin common room. Besides it being _freezing_ during lessons, Professor Snape also had pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the classroom, that no matter where Evelyn turned her head, it always seemed like they were creepily staring directly at her.

Just like Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape started the class by taking the roll call and then pausing at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new… _celebrity.”_

Draco and his friends sniggered behind their hands and Evelyn pierced them with a hard look. Draco only briefly paused before turning his attention back towards Harry with a smirk.

Professor Snape’s eyes, Evelyn had noticed, were as black as Hagrid’s. But, they didn’t have any of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made her think of the bottom of a well.

He was thin with sallow skin and he had a large, hooked nose and yellow, uneven teeth. His hair was shoulder length, greasy and black and it framed his face in curtains. His lips were curled and dark and he was also dressed in a flowing black robe.

Evelyn silently thought that he needed another colour in his palette, other than _black_.

“There will be no foolish wand-waving or funny words spoken in this class,” he declared, his voice powerful, barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Just like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had a way of keeping a class silent without effort. “I don’t expect that you will be able to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the minds and ensnaring the sense.”

He then slowly folded his arms across his chest and glanced around the classroom.

“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper on death. That is _if_ you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed Professor Snape’s speech and Harry had exchanged a look at Evelyn with raised eyebrows, at which she then gave him a pointed look that said to not cause trouble when the lesson had only just started.

“Tell me, Mister Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Evelyn had seen the twitch of her brother’s lips before he concealed it. They had learnt about asphodel during their first Herbology class and Harry had already read through their Potions book, at least four times already.

“Draught of Living Death, sir.” Harry replied as respectfully as he could.

Professor Snape’s expression seemed to become even more focused, if possible.

“Where would I look if I wanted to find a bezoar, Mister Potter?” Professor Snape continued, looking directly at Harry and nobody else, not bothering to confirm whether or not Harry had actually answered his previous question correctly.

Evelyn pondered the theory of Professor Snape seeing Harry as nothing more than the child of James Potter. Their father and their uncle had both warned them that Professor Snape might act differently towards them because of the Marauders’ actions during their time at Hogwarts.

“The stomach of a goat, sir.”

Professor Snape’s head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.

“And what, Mister Potter, is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

It was a trick question, Evelyn realised that almost immediately. Monkshood and wolfsbane weren’t in the first year textbooks and Harry had most definitely _not_ read further ahead. He would also not remember their Potion lessons with Aunt Andromeda. Harry’s mind was filled with anything and everything to do with Quidditch and Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Evelyn raised her hand into the air, watching as Harry’s eyes flickered left and right. Whenever Harry’s eyes would flicker, everyone that knew him, knew that he was trying to remember something. In this case, their Potion lessons with their aunt.

After a few moments, he sighed, “I don’t know, sir.”

Professor Snape’s eyes flashed but he said nothing else to Harry. He turned to face Evelyn once he spotted her raised hand, although Evelyn had noticed the way he slightly flinched away from her before he concealed it behind an emotionless mask.

“Yes, Miss Potter?”

“Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, sir. They are also known as aconite, a genus of flowering plants that belong to the family, Ranunculaceae.”

Professor Snape pursed his lips and turned away, moving towards the chalkboard. He waved his wand at the board, revealing detailed instructions for the potion they were going to be brewing during the course of their lesson.

When he turned to face the class, he said, “Ten points to Slytherin for Miss Potter’s preparedness. You should all be as prepared as she is if you want to succeed in my class.”

With a glance at her brother to make sure he wasn’t upset with her – he wasn’t - Evelyn turned around to face her partner, who was the previously sniggering Draco Malfoy, and began to work on the Cure for Boils potion that Professor Snape had assigned them to work on.

The youngest Potter-Black and the youngest Malfoy barely spoke to each other as they worked on their potion together. Evelyn was more than a little surprised once she realised that Draco _actually_ knew what he was doing without having to stare at the chalkboard every few minutes.

It was a nice change, Evelyn had thought, as all her previous partners had to stop their work and stare at the chalkboard. It didn’t matter which lesson they had or what partner she had, they all had to stop – although Evelyn’s partners so far had all been Slytherins, mainly Pansy.

As Evelyn began to boil the water for their cauldron, Draco crushed six snake fangs into his mortar. Once the water was boiled to the required temperature, Draco had added four measures of the now crushed fangs into their copper cauldron, for he had the same cauldron as her.

Once Evelyn noted the time, she sat down on her stool and pulled out a book from her pouch. Draco had gone back to talking with Vincent and Gregory, who were sat in front of them. Evelyn had noted the discoloured smoke that drifted out of their cauldron but said nothing, focusing on her book, potion and also the time.

Draco had also noticed it, but just like Evelyn, he had also decided to say nothing.

Evelyn put her book away once she realised it was time for the second part of the potion and called out Draco’s name, quietly enough not to get glared at by Professor Snape, who was wandering around the classroom, staring into various cauldrons. He glanced at her with slightly narrowed eyes for disrupting his conversation with his friends before he realised the time also and his eyes returned to their natural shape.

He then threw in the four horned slugs, took the cauldron off of the fire, and added two porcupine quills before turning back to face his friends once again, leaving Evelyn to do the final part of the potion on her own.

Just as Evelyn had stirred the potion clockwise five times, the discoloured smoke that she noted before near Vincent and Gregory’s cauldron, made its presence known to the rest of the class and gave a loud hissing sound that filled the dungeon and clouds of discoloured smoke began pouring at an alarming rate out of their cauldron. The whole cauldron had melted into a twisted blob in a matter of seconds and the potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes into people’s shoes.

Within seconds, the entire class were sitting on their stools with their knees up to their chests, whilst Vincent and Gregory, who had both been drenched in the hot potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in agony as bright red, angry boils sprang up all over their arms and legs.

“Idiot boys!” snarled Professor Snape, clearing the spilt potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

The two boys whimpered as boils started to pop up all over their faces. They were barely recognisable and Evelyn felt a slight ping of guilty for not saying anything. Only slightly, though. It _was_ their own faults for not paying attention to both their potion and to the instructions clearly displayed on the chalkboard.

“Everyone do not touch anything until I return!” Professor Snape almost spat at the class as he dragged the two boys out of the classroom and towards the hospital wing. As they had climbed out of the dungeon two hours later, Evelyn happily eats lunch whilst engrossed in a book. Draco was nowhere to be seen and was probably sitting in the Hospital Wing with Vincent and Gregory.


	7. Broomsticks and Quidditch

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER SEVEN  
BROOMSTICKS AND QUIDDITCH

 

Evelyn shifted her feet slightly as everyone around her was silent. She knew that their Quidditch lessons were going to be awkward but she hadn’t expected it to be _this_ awkward.

Nobody said anything and stood uneasily near each other until their instructor had arrived. Madam Hooch had spiky grey hair that was cut short and she had piercing, yellow, hawk-like eyes. She wore a white button-down collared shirt and black necktie with the Hogwarts crest on, underneath a plain black cloak.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she yelled as she neared the gathered students. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on now, hurry up!”

They were using school brooms and Evelyn had already noticed the disgruntled look on her brother’s face as he looked down at the scratched shaft and disordered twigs.

“Stick your hand out over the broom and say up!” Madam Hooch said.

“Up!” Harry called across the pitch and then each student summoned their brooms with varying degrees of success. Harry’s had quite literally leapt up into his hand and Draco wasn’t far behind.

Evelyn knew that Harry was excited about flying and she had heard Draco talking about it numerous amounts of times when she would be reading in the Slytherin common room.

Madam Hooch then told them all how to properly mount their brooms and Evelyn had to shift around several times before she felt comfortable enough to sit still on the extremely uncomfortable wooden broom.

“No, Mister Malfoy, you grip the handle like this,” Madam Hooch said as Draco looked at her with a snarl across his face, very much like the snarls he’d usually give when someone told him that he was wrong.

“But my _father_ said that this is how I’m supposed to hold it,” he argued, an argument that most of Slytherin were now familiar with.

“Well, your father taught you the wrong grip then,” Madam Hooch replied, making sure that Draco was holding his broom the way that she was teaching everyone else to hold their brooms.

Evelyn glanced down the pitch where the Gryffindors were as a red-haired Gryffindor, Ronald Weasley, chuckled almost giddy with glee. “Guess he’s been doing it wrong _all_ these years.”

As Draco was about to retort his own comment about the young Gryffindor, Madam Hooch cleared her throat sharply.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard.” she said, positioning her whistle between her lips. “On my whistle, three, two, one.”

As the whistle echoed through the pitch, everyone pushed off the ground with their feet as hard as they could. Once Madam Hooch was happy with how everyone was dealing with the distance between their feet and the ground, she let them fly a few laps around the pitch if they felt confidence enough to do so.

Harry, with a massive grin on his face, shot off at once doing loop de loops and various other tricks he had learnt from all his years of playing Quidditch in their back garden.

Evelyn had just hovered where she was. She wasn’t afraid of heights. She was just uncomfortable sitting on a broom that looked ready to snap beneath her grasp if she used it any more than she already was, and that was _not_ a welcome thought in her mind as she was just sitting on it.

From where Evelyn hovered in the air, she had noticed the look Madam Hooch was giving her brother. It was the look their father gave him when he flew on his broom. That Harry had talent. Talent that should be used the best way it could.

So, after their flying lesson that day and then half way through lunch, Harry had waved Evelyn over to the Gryffindor table where Neville and Hermione were currently sat. Once Evelyn had sat down next to Harry, he told her with a big smile on his face, that Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch had made him Gryffindor’s Seeker.

“McGonagall even wants to get me a Nimbus Two Thousand, but she has to clear it with Dumbledore first.”

Evelyn hummed, biting into a piece of buttered toast she had taken from her brother’s plate, ignoring his expression at her stealing his dinner. Their father _was_ going to get Harry that broom for Christmas so Evelyn hoped that they cleared it with him also.

“You must be the youngest house player in about-”

“A century, yeah. Wood told me. McGonagall also said that other dad was an excellent Quidditch player himself, although I already knew that.” Harry finished with a wide grin.

He then looked around at them before asking them to keep it a secret. As soon as they promised, the Weasley twins that Evelyn had noticed from the Sorting, rushed over to Harry, both leaning down on either side of him, slightly knocking Evelyn and Hermione aside.

Frederick and George Weasley had a head of vivid red hair, brown eyes and abundant freckles. The twins were of a shorter and stockier build than that of their brothers, Percival and Ronald.

One also had a mole on the side of his neck whilst the other did not.

“Well done,” one said. “Wood told us. We’re on the team too. Beaters.”

“We’re going to win the Quidditch cup for sure, this year,” the other said with a grin, “We haven’t won since Charlie left,” he continued and Evelyn could only guess that this Charlie person was another of their many brothers. “But this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry. Wood was almost raving when he told us.”

“Anyway,” the first one that had spoken said. “We’ve got to go; Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway that leads out of the school.”

As they left, Evelyn heard the second one say, “Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week.”

“I am expected to go to your Quidditch games, Harry? You know how I hate it.”

Ignoring the looks of disgust sent her way, which she had gotten used to by now, having sat at the Gryffindor table enough that they stopped trying to get her to move, Evelyn stared at her brother, who seemed to be pretending to decide whether she attend his games or not. 

 _“Yes,”_ he finally replied.

Evelyn groaned, biting into a piece of chicken, that she had also stolen from Harry’s plate.

She _hated_ Quidditch, but then again Evelyn hated pretty much every sport in existence.

The only reason she wasn’t unfit was due to her morning runs that she had been doing since she was six years old, per her Uncle Remus’ request. It was his way of making sure she was fit enough to either defend herself or run away from things that wanted to kill her.

It wasn’t exactly a comforting thought to think of someone or something wanting to kill her, but it did the trick never the less, as Evelyn hadn’t missed a single jogging session in five years.


	8. Confidence

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER EIGHT  
CONFIDENCE

 

Evelyn had just finished buttering her toast and pouring a glass of orange juice when there was a swell of noise in the Great Hall. The familiar noise of flapping wings was the source of the excitement for it was time for the post. What wasn’t usual, however, was a long, thin package that was wheeled into the Hall on the wings of six owls and once they headed towards the Gryffindor table, Evelyn realised what it was.

When a seventh owl dropped an envelope into Harry’s lap, Evelyn nodded before turning back to her breakfast. Harry was allowed the Nimbus Two Thousand broom that he had wanted.

Before Evelyn could bite into her toast, however, the familiar hoot of her own owl made her look up once again as Saoirse landed onto the table in front of her with a letter tied to her leg.

As Evelyn untied the letter from Saoirse’s letter, she broke off a piece of bacon and feed it to her. Once Saoirse had finished the toast she gave Evelyn another short hoot before flying back towards the owlery. After noticing the house crest of the Black family on the back of the letter, Evelyn ripped open the letter with a clean butter knife.

_Dear Evelyn,_

_I’m happy that you are becoming better friends with Hermione. I’ve already got most of the books that you wanted, although a few are proving difficult to find **.** Do try and stay away from any children of **Death Eaters** for me, won’t you? Show everyone that not all Blacks are evil while you’re at it too!_

_I love you pup,_   
_Dad_

Evelyn smiled, noting the way ‘Death Eaters’ seemed to have been written with a lot more ink than that of the rest of the letter. As she folded the letter up and placed it inside of her pouch, she noticed Draco, Vincent and Gregory had almost jumped up out of their seats and headed towards her brother, who was currently admiring his new broom.

Biting off another piece of her toast, Evelyn went after them. She had arrived at the Gryffindor table just as Draco snatched the broomstick off of the table.

“That’s a _broomstick,_ _”_ Draco observed, dropping the broomstick back onto the table quite contemptuously. “You’ll be in for it, this time, Potter. First years aren’t allowed broomsticks.”

Evelyn watched as Ronald Weasley smirked at Draco with an unsightly grin. “It’s not just _any_ old broomstick.” He said. “It’s a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you’ve got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?” his voice was full of spite now and Evelyn frowned at her brother who shook his head at her questioning expression.

“Comets look flashy, but they’re not in the same league as the Nimbus.”

Draco’s pale face flushed a light pink. “What would you know about it, _Weasley?_ You couldn’t afford half of the handle! I suppose you and your brothers have to save up. _Twig_ by _twig_.” He retorted, crossing his arms across his chest, puffing his chest out slightly.

Ronald opened his mouth to respond just as Professor Flitwick was suddenly among them. Evelyn was quite surprised to see his sudden appearance but it must have been because he was so short that she hadn’t seen him moving towards them at all.

“Not arguing I hope, boys?” Professor Flitwick smiled, in his characteristic high-pitched voice.

“Potter’s been sent a broomstick, Professor,” Draco said at once but Professor Flitwick just smiled and examined the broom from where he stood.

“Yes, yes, that’s right. Professor McGonagall told me all about this special circumstance. What model is it, Mister Potter-Black?”

“A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” Harry told him, staring directly at Draco. The suppressed laughter in his voice was very evident, as was the scowl on Draco’s face.

Scowling and looking thoroughly put out, Draco and his two followers – friends – turned and trudged back towards the Slytherin table as Evelyn sat down in the empty seat next to Hermione, who gave her a small smile from over the top of her book.

Hermione seemed to always route between sitting at the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor tables.

It was then that Evelyn noticed that there was a letter tied around the wrapping of her brother’s new broom, which he had left unopened in his haste to rip open his new gift.

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._   
_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don’t want everybody knowing you’re got a broomstick or they’ll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o’clock for your first training session._

Evelyn rolled her eyes with a faint smile, for it was far too late for that now. If only Gryffindors were known for their patience.  

“Hermione?” said Neville, turning away from Harry’s conversation with Ronald about his new broomstick and about Quidditch in general.

“Yes, Neville?” Hermione said, placing her finger down where she was currently at in her book.

“It’s your birthday soon, isn’t it?”

Hermione blinked in surprise before nodding her head. Evelyn had already got Hermione’s birthday presents the previous week, which was currently safely tucked away inside of her trunk.

She had got her a copy of _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms_ as Hermione kept checking it out of the library for some reason, a jar of bluebell flames as it was probably one of Hermione’s favourite spells and a phoenix feather quill.

“I think I’m going to fail Potions. I mean, I know I could do the potions, I just forget most of the instructions.” Neville muttered, pushing his eggs and bacon around his plate with his fork.

“Why don’t you make notebooks, like Evelyn?” Hermione smiled.

Neville shrugged his shoulders, shoving some egg onto his fork. “I’ll probably forget the notebook in my trunk, or on bed, or on my desk, or even-”

“Neville.” Evelyn said at once, cutting Neville off from continuing his examples. “You’re a good wizard, it’s just your nerves that cause you to mess up. Be more confident in yourself.”

Neville blushed, ducking his head slightly at Evelyn’s words.


	9. The Wondrous Uses Of A Penknife

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER NINE  
THE WONDROUS USES OF A PENKNIFE

 

Weeks passed at an alarming rate after Hermione’s birthday as autumn deepened into shorter days and longer, colder nights and before Evelyn could blink, it was Hallowe'en.

Evelyn was sure all her professors hated her, for yet again, she was partnered with Draco Malfoy. But, she supposed that being partnered with Draco was a lot better than being partnered with Pansy. At least Draco knew what he was doing. Pansy would just gossip throughout the entire lesson.

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we've been practising!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember, _swish_ and _flick._ Saying the magic words properly is very important, too. Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who had said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”

Evelyn stared at the snow white feather that had been placed on their desk and then looked out of the corner of her eye at Draco once she heard how he was pronouncing the levitation charm.

“ ** _Wingardium Leviosa!_** ” he said, sounding as bored as he looked.

“You’re saying it wrong, Malfoy.” she finally said, having enough of Draco over pronouncing the ‘sa’ part of Leviosa instead of the ‘o’.

Draco’s whole demeanour instantly changed. His back straightened and he began to scowl.

“I am _not._ ”

“It’s Levi- _o_ -sa, not Levi-o- _sa._ You’re over pronouncing the wrong part. You’re Wingardium is perfectly fine. You’re rolling the ‘gar’ nicely and you’re doing the correct hand movement. It’s just your Leviosa that needs working on.”

Draco stared at Evelyn blankly, as though he was trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. After a few moments, he sighed and turned back to their feather, flicked his wand and said,

“ ** _Wingardium Leviosa!_** ”

The feather rose off the desk and hovered a few feet above their heads.

“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping at the sight of their hovering feather. “Everyone see here, Mister Malfoy’s done it!”

Draco smirked, letting the feather hover back down to their desk. The rest of the lesson went past fairly quickly, not many others able to make their feather raise in the air. As Evelyn walked out of the classroom once the lesson had ended, Draco walked past her and she heard an almost impossibly quiet, _“Thank you, P-… Evelyn.”_

Evelyn paused, watching the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. Draco’s voice had been extremely different. Almost soft.

Evelyn shook her head and set off towards the Great Hall for the Hallowe'en feast after her next class. As she walked past two first year Gryffindors, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, she overheard Parvati tell Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls’ bathroom and wanted to be left alone.

Evelyn didn’t realise she was at the door of the girls’ bathroom until she pushed it open and heard someone sharply draw in a breath, and the sound of a door slamming greeted her as she stepped into the girls’ bathroom.

Evelyn leant against a sink as she titled her head. She thought it was Hermione, considering that Parvati had said that Hermione was currently crying in the bathroom, but she didn’t know what Hermione even sounded like whilst she was crying. It could also be another girl crying. Perhaps Pansy had caused yet another Hufflepuff to run away with tears streaming down their face.

It sounded like the girl hiding behind the bathroom stall door – Hermione or some other girl - was bawling her eyes out, crying out loudly and unrestrainedly but trying _desperately_ to hide it.

Evelyn crouched down so she could just about see underneath the bathroom stall door.

“Hermione?” she muttered, recognising the plain black shoes that only muggles and muggleborns seemed to wear and the black cloak trimmed with blue lining.

“E-Evelyn?”

Evelyn stood back up and leant her head on the door of the stall that Hermione was currently in, and so she stayed as she listened to Hermione sniffle and croak as she told her how any of the classes she had with Gryffindor House, she was _always_ bullied by Ronald Weasley for being a ‘ _nightmare_ ’, a _‘know_ _it all’_ and a few other words that Hermione didn’t want to repeat.

When Hermione finally stepped out of the bathroom stall she had been hiding in, her usually dark brown eyes were bright, bloodshot and almost glass like. As she began to wash her face with some water from the sink taps, hoping to rid herself of the appearance of having cried, she paused, before then pinching her nostrils closed with her fingers as she asked,

“Can you smell that?”

Evelyn wrinkled her nose as a malodorous stink filled the bathroom, _far_ worse than anything else any bathroom she had been in before had smelt like.

A sort of huffing, grunting sound reached their ears then as the floor vibrated under the footfalls of something massively large and suddenly the bathroom door flew off its hinges and exploded into a hundred different sized pieces of wood as it made contact with the stone wall.

Before Hermione could react, Evelyn had dragged her into a stall and quickly and quietly closed the door of the stall shut, having already figured out the source of the smell and the broken door just by the two large toes that had been the only thing visible before Evelyn had hidden Hermione and herself away inside of the small sized bathroom stall.

She slowly withdrew her wand, holding her finger to her lips to signal for Hermione to keep quiet.

Trolls were considerably spell resistance because of their thick hides which repel all but the most concentrated and powerful spells and Evelyn didn’t have the room for a powerful spell in the tiny bathroom or it's even smaller sized stalls.

So that only left her with the troll’s eyes as they were very vulnerable to attacks on their eyes. With a spell that would work already on her lips, Evelyn slowly cracked open the stall door and pointed her wand at the twelve-foot fall, dull granite grey skinned troll that was stood swaying on its feet by the bathroom sinks.

_“ **Conjunctivito!** ” _

The moment the spell hit the troll, it cried out and crashed into the bathroom sinks, ripping many of them from the wall and water shot out of the now broken pipes with a powerful force.

“ _Hermione, how’s your levitation charm?”_ she half whispered over the roars of the troll.

“ _Why?”_ Hermione replied, clutching the back of Evelyn’s robes, her hands trembling.

“ _It has a club. If you can hover it, smash it against its skull as many times as you can.”_

Hermione nodded her head with wide eyes as she followed Evelyn through the crack between the door and the doorway before slipped out to where there was currently a giant, whaling troll.

 _“ **Wingardium Leviosa!** ” _Hermione said, flicking her wand at the wooden club that was still in the troll’s grasp. The club suddenly flew high up into the air before turning slowly over and then it dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner’s head. The troll swayed on the spot before shaking its head, only slightly affected by the wooden club’s weight.

Evelyn crept around the troll and nodded at Hermione who repeated her previous actions. As the club hit the troll on the head again it once again swayed on the spot before shaking its large head and Evelyn took that moment to flick open her penknife, slashing at the back of the troll’s knee caps with as much force as she could possibly muster.

She was sure that when her father had given her the heavily charmed penknife, he had been thinking of her using it more along the lines of opening doors and cutting rope, not _this._

The troll gave a shriek of pain and with its eyes still swollen shut, it staggered around slowly, trying to find the cause of its pain. Evelyn jerked forward, slashing across the base of its back, targeting the gap between its loincloth and vest.

With the slash of Evelyn’s blade across its skin, the troll lets out a thundering roar of anger just as it began to topple over, its knees quickly losing the strength to continue to hold up the troll’s weight.

Deciding that she wasn’t going to risk the chance of the troll still being able to attack Hermione or herself, Evelyn dragged her blade across its throat, slicing open its jugular vein.

Hermione stood frozen, her hands shaking with fear as she stared at the troll that would have killed her if Evelyn had not been there to save her.

“Is it dead?” Hermione muttered, flickering her eyes to the troll and back to Evelyn who was currently wiping her blade on the troll’s vest.

“I would expect so, I did slice open its jugular vein,” Evelyn replied, dropping her knife into her pouch and wiping a bit of troll blood from her cheek.

As the girls moved towards the door, Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell sprinted into the room and stopped dead at the sight of the troll sprawled out on the floor, blood pooling underneath its body, which was mixing with the water from the broken pipes.

Professor Quirrell then gave a cross between a sigh and a moan before leaning against an unbroken sink with his hand over his heart. Professor Snape stared at the two girls with annoyance in his narrowed eyes. Professor McGonagall looked like a worried grandmother.

“Are you two all right?” she asked immediately, quickly checking them for any injuries.

“We are fine, Professor.” Evelyn insisted with a small, tight-lipped smile. “I apologise for the damage to the bathroom, but fighting a mountain troll in such a small space did not work out as well as I had hoped.”

Professor McGonagall sighed, before nodding her head slightly. “I suggest you two hurry along back to the Great Hall. Your parents will be informed.” she then turned to face Evelyn fully. “It is fortunate that Mister Lupin has been teaching you so much Defence, young lady. Fifteen points to Slytherin and ten points to Ravenclaw, for _sheer_ dumb luck and skill.”

Evelyn nodded and gently pulled Hermione in the direction of the Great Hall. Not a word was uttered between the two young witches for they did not need words after what had happened.

Hermione would crawl underneath her blanket that night and silently cry herself to sleep and Evelyn would write a letter to her father, explaining what had happened, hopefully, before Professor McGonagall’s letter would reach him.

With a famous Auror for a father and a werewolf for an uncle, it wasn’t much of a surprise that the young Potter-Black would hold her own in the face of a mountain troll. Although, as Evelyn wrote her letter, she tried to ignore the fact that her hands were shaking.

It was one thing to sit in a lesson, reading and learning up on how to kill and defend against various different dangerous creatures and beings, but it was a completely different thing altogether, when suddenly faced with one that only wanted to kill and eat.


	10. Theories and Plans

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TEN  
THEORIES AND PLANS

 

Evelyn sat in the library with Hermione, both surrounded with any and all books they could find on trolls in the large sized library. Evelyn only had one book on trolls at home and it was covered from front to back with information about their weaknesses, strengths and the best ways to kill the XXXX, Minister of Magic Classification beasts.

Hermione was frantically looked through the pages of a thick, leather bound book.

“All these books say that trolls have low intelligent. There is _absolutely_ no way that troll should have got past the wards surrounding the school. There is just no way!”

Evelyn tapped her quill against her scroll of parchment, droplets of ink falling onto its surface. She got no notice of this fact, for the ink droplets soon disappear as all of Evelyn’s parchments had smudge-removing charms on them.

“Someone had to have let it in. It’s the only reasonable theory I have. Unless of course you wish to amuse the idea of a troll’s brain _actually_ growing larger than a tiny pea.”

Hermione’s head almost snapped around to face Evelyn, eyes wide with horror and disbelief. “No student has that much power nor that much control to both lower the wards and lead the troll into the school. But, if it wasn’t a student then it must have been a…”

“Professor.”

Hermione shook her head, her hair flying around wildly, almost slapping Evelyn across the face.

“It’s impossible! A teacher? No way!”

Madam Pince, the librarian, shushed them, her dark brown eyes narrowed. Madam Pince _hated_ children from what Evelyn could gather, so what she was doing as a librarian in a school for preteens and above bemused her greatly.

“We would be able to find out by the process of elimination. We find out from Harry and Neville who _wasn’t_ at the Hallowe'en Feast when the troll had been discovered.”

Hermione nodded, finding Evelyn’s theory to be logical except for one fact. “What if _no-one_ had been missing from the feast when it had been discovered, Evelyn?”

Evelyn dropped her quill into her inkwell and leant back in her chair, a thoughtful expression across her face, her eyebrows slightly arched downward.

“We can figure out what to do _if_ and _when_ we get to that, Hermione.” Evelyn replied, running her fingers through her hair as she stared up at the ceiling. “Although Professor Flitwick would be the most rational explanation for the wards. Professor Kettleburn is the Care of Magical Creatures professor so _he_ would be the most knowledgeable on how to lure a mountain troll into the school, but there is also Professor Grubbly-Plank who is the substitute professor for Professor Kettleburn. Is there anybody else?”

Hermione bit her lip - her version of Harry’s eyes flickering left and right – before shaking her head, no other professors coming to mind.

“We could ask Professor Dumbledore. He’s the most powerful wizard there is.”

Evelyn shook her head, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We have no proof, Hermione. He’ll pat our heads, say that there’s nothing to worry about, and then send us our way. We are just children in adult eyes.”

After a few minutes where the two had in complete silence, Evelyn turned her head to glance at Hermione, who was clenching her hand around her quill rather tightly.

“What did your parents say about the troll?” Evelyn asked.

“They wanted to pull me out of school, at first.” Hermione replied, running a finger across the cover of a closed book positioned in front of her. “It took me a while to get them to agree to let me finish the school year before they decided on anything permanently.”

“I guess that makes sense. My father didn’t say he was going to pull me out of school, purely for the fact that I was able to handle myself without getting a single injury.” Evelyn said, looking back down at the books on trolls that surrounded the two. “If I got hurt, he would have definitely pulled me out of school and sent me somewhere else. I believe he would have pulled me from school if I had so much as a _scratch_ from the troll.”


	11. Terribly Kept Secrets

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER ELEVEN  
TERRIBLY KEPT SECRETS

 

Routine returned to everyone’s lives for the next three weeks. Classes, homework and Quidditch practice filled out their schedules. Evelyn and Hermione continued to excel in their classes, with them both being number one and two in their entire year. They were closely followed by Draco who was always third behind them.

The day before Harry’s first Quidditch match which was against Slytherin House, the Hogwarts Four were out in the bone-chilling courtyard during break. Hermione had her jar of bluebell flames with her so that they would be somewhat warmer.

Harry suddenly jerked when something across the yard caught his attention. Professor Snape, who seemed to be limping towards them, obviously looking for a way to tell them off.

“What’s that you’ve got there, Potter _.”_

Evelyn looked over to Harry, as she had one of her notebooks in her lap and notebooks were most definitely not against any school rules. He had a book in his lap, _Quidditch Through the Ages._ Evelyn still wasn’t exactly sure why Harry had taken that particular book from the library when he had been playing Quidditch for years now, but she just chalked it down as nerves.

Harry cautiously showed Professor Snape the book.

“Library books are not to be taken outside the school.” Professor Snape sneered. “Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.”

Everyone stared in shock as Professor Snape took the book and limped away.

“He just _made_ up that rule!” Hermione muttered angrily. She then blinked in confusion before tilting her head to the side. “I wonder what’s wrong with his leg.”

“I hope it’s really hurting him.” Harry muttered, bitterly.

With her brother’s nerves as high as they were already, Evelyn was forced into action. She set off through the dungeons hoping to find her Head of House, but he was nowhere to be found. After almost thirty minutes of searching, Evelyn finally pulled out her wand and cast the point me spell to locate the Potions Professor, who was surprisingly enough in the staffroom.

Professor Snape was never in the staffroom.

Evelyn then straightens her back, held her head up high, and gently but loudly knocked on the wooden door, only to receive no answer. She tried once again but nothing changed.

Making sure to keep her posture in a proper pureblood fashion, Evelyn turned the doorknob and opened the door ajar. “Professor Snape?” she asked politely. When she received no reply, she pushed open the door further and her eyes widen slightly at what she saw.

Professor Snape was not alone. Argus Filch was also with him, trying to help him bandage the bloody and mangled mess which was Professor Snape’s leg.

“Blasted thing,” Professor Snape growled. “How are you supposed to keep your eye on all three heads at once?”

Evelyn slowly took a step backwards, having heard enough after _three heads_ , but unfortunately, her foot smacked into the door, which made a loud, echoing noise.

“Potter!” Professor Snape spat angrily.

Evelyn titled her head slightly as Professor Snape dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. The blood was already seeping through his newly wrapped bandages and Evelyn had noticed that it did not, in fact, look properly and thoroughly cleaned.

“You have not cleaned the wound properly, sir. May I receive my brother’s book?”

With narrowed eyes, Professor Snape grudgingly mentioned for Evelyn to take the book that was sat on the table. With a nod of thanks, Evelyn left, quickly closing the door behind her, almost sprinting back towards the courtyard.

“Did you get it?” Harry asked eagerly as soon as he spotted her.

Nodding her head, Evelyn handed her brother his library book back, before dropping down to sit next to Hermione. Hermione, of course, seemed to know something was on Evelyn’s mind and demanded to know what was going on.

To which of course, Evelyn relayed her suspicions.

True to her nature, no one was surprised that Evelyn had looked into the forbidden corridor during one of her morning jogs. What they were surprised and shock about was the three-headed dog, the hellhound, that she had found guarding a trap door there.

The hellhound that Professor Snape was just talking about.

“Do you think Professor Snape was the one who had let the troll in on Hallowe’en?” Hermione asked worriedly, her hands slightly shaking as she recalled that day.

“I don’t know, Hermione.” Evelyn admitted. “Harry, Neville, who _wasn’t_ in the Great Hall when the troll was _first_ discovered.”

Neville and Harry exchanged looks briefly before turning to think back to Hallowe’en and the chaos the day had ended up becoming in such a small period of time.

“Professor Vector, Madam Pomfrey and of course, Professor Quirrell.”

“Madam Pomfrey was in the Hospital Wing, treating a second year who had a mishap with some Mandrake during their Herbology lesson.” Neville said at once.

“What about Professors Vector? Professor Vector is the Arithmancy Professor. Arithmancy studies the magical properties of numbers, including predicting the future with numbers and numerology. Professor Vector _couldn’t_ have let the troll in! It is illogical!”

Evelyn looked at Hermione, who was nervously playing with strands of her hair, still trying to deny the possibility that a professor had let in a dangerous and murderous beast. One that had almost killed Evelyn and herself.

“Harry, Neville, you said that Professor Quirrell came running into the Great Hall, frantic about the troll, yes?” the boys nodded in agreement, not quite seeing where Evelyn was going.

“It makes no sense. No sense at all. Professor Quirrell is the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Anyone who practices in Defense knows at _least_ the basics of defending or even _killing_ any and all beasts and beings. It’s their job.” Evelyn then paused, rubbing her forehead as she tried to sort through all her theories and information, trying to connect them together.

She didn’t have much time to think about this new information, however, as she soon found herself in the Gryffindor tower viewing stood between Hermione and Neville. Hermione had a pair of binoculars hanging from her neck and two Gryffindor boys – Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan – were holding a banner high in the air that said ‘Potter-Black for President’ in large, bold letters and there was even a large drawing of a Gryffindor lion underneath.

Evelyn grinned and cheered along with the Gryffindors as Harry shot out into the field, wearing his scarlet Quidditch uniform. He looked almost exactly like their biological father in that moment except for his green eyes and the fact that Harry was a Seeker and not a Chaser.

Stood in the middle of the field was Madam Hooch, broom in hand.

“Now, I want a nice fair game, all for you,” she said, her voice booming across the field. Evelyn noticed that she was mostly speaking particularly to Slytherin’s team captain, Marcus Flint, who was a sixth-year student.

“Mount your brooms, please.”

Harry clambered onto his Number Two Thousand with a nervous but excited grin.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle, threw the Quaffle up into the air and fifteen brooms rose up high in the air and then they were off, shooting across the field.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what an excellent Chaser that girl is. She is rather attractive too –”

“Jordan!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

The commentator was definitely a Gryffindor. A Slytherin wouldn’t have openly said that a Gryffindor was excellent and also attractive. Well, not _most_ Slytherins anyway. Some would say it as a joke to hurt someone else’s feelings.

Evelyn then remembered the conversation her brother had had with the Weasley twins and realised that this Jordan was probably the Lee Jordan that they had been talking about when they had left the Great Hall.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve, back to Johnson.”

Evelyn watched closely as Marcus Flint got the Quaffle and was about to score when it was blocked by Gryffindor’s Keeper, Oliver Wood. The Slytherins grunts and moans were heard from all across the pitch.

“That’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and… _Ouch_. That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger.”

The Quaffle was once again taken by her House and Chaser Adrian Pucey was speeding towards the goal posts.

“He’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson is back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes, she’s really flying, dodges a speeding Bludger, the goal posts are ahead, come on now, Angelina. Keeper Bletchley dives, misses… Gryffindor scores!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold window air whilst howls and moans left the mouths of Slytherins.

“Budge up there, move along.”

“Hagrid!”

Neville and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them, Evelyn slightly moved out of the way, so Hagrid could slip in between the rows of seats, before returning to her position at the front of the viewing stands.

“Bin watchin’ from me hut,” said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, “But it isn’t the same as bein’ in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?”

“No,” Neville said. “Harry hasn’t had much to do yet. Think he’s getting a bit bored.”

Evelyn nodded in agreement. Harry was indeed extremely bored. After the game had started, he had done a few loop de loops but that was about it. A Bludger _had_ decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but thankfully Harry had dodged it and one of the Weasley twins had come chasing after it and then hit it with their bat so it went flying furiously towards Captain Flint.

“Slytherin in possession,” said Lee Jordan. “Chaser Pucey ducked two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell, he’s speeding towards the, wait a moment, was that the Snitch?”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Chaser Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder as a flash of gold flew past his left ear.

Everyone knew the moment Harry had spotted the Snitch. He had dived downward like a bolt of lightning. Sadly – as Evelyn _had_ wanted her brother to get the Snitch – Slytherin’s Seeker, Terence Higgs had seen it too. Neck and neck, the two Seekers hurtled towards the Snitch although everyone could see that Harry was going faster than Terence and all the Chasers had seemed to have forgotten what they were meant to do as they all just hung in mid-air to watch the two Seekers.

Evelyn’s eyes widen as Captain Flint blocked Harry on purpose and his broom spun off course, with Harry holding onto his broom for dear life.

“Foul!” screamed the Gryffindors surrounding Evelyn.

They all watched as Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Captain Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. In the confusion and anger, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight once again.

“Send him off, ref! Red card!”

“What are you talking about? What’s a red card?” said Neville, confusion was written all over his face as he turned slightly to look at Dean Thomas.

“Red card!” Dean said furiously. “In football, you get shown the red card and then you’re out of the game!”

“But this isn’t football.” Neville frowned.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean’s side and Evelyn did see the appeal of a red card in Quidditch. But then again, her House was highly unlikely to win the Quidditch cup again if that ever happened.

“So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating…”

“Jordan!” growled Professor McGonagall.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul…”

“ _Jordan, I am warning you!”_

“All right, all right! Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone. _I’m sure._ So, a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession of the Quaffle.”

It was then that Harry had to dodge another Bludger which had flown spinning dangerously past his head. Evelyn leant forward to grasp at the wall of the viewing stand as Harry’s broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, it looked like he was going to fall off his broom and Harry had to grip his groom tightly with both his hands and his knees.

He couldn’t control his broom; it was completely out of control. It was zigzagging through the air and every now and then it would make a violent swishing movement that almost unseats him from his broom completely.

Jordan was still commentating up in the professors viewing stand, to absorbed in commentating the match and oblivious to what was happening to Harry.

“Slytherin in possession, Flint with the Quaffle, passes Spinnet, passes Bell, hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose, only joking Professor, Slytherin scores, a no…”

Evelyn’s House was cheering. No one even seemed to notice that Harry’s broom looked like it was trying to kill him. It was carrying him slowly higher away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

“Dunno what Harry think he’s doing,” Hagrid mumbled as he stared through his binoculars. “If I didn’ know better, I’d say he’d lost control of his broom, but he can’t have…”

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry from almost all of the stands.

His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped and Evelyn’s heartbeat quickened rapidly. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and he had swung off it.

He was now dangling from his broom, only holding on to it with one hand.

“I knew it,” Hermione gasped suddenly, “Professor Snape, look.”

Evelyn grabbed the binoculars from her grasp. Professor Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixated on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath. As Evelyn moved the binoculars, she caught Professor Quirrell looking fixated on Harry as well.

“He’s doing something, jinxing the broom.” Hermione said, shoving her binoculars back into her bag, which was dangling off her shoulder.

“Professor Quirrell is fixated on Harry as well. One of them is doing the jinx, whilst the other is probably doing the counter of it.”

Everyone around Evelyn looked at her for a moment until Hermione disappeared with her words echoing around them, “I’ll deal with this.”

Harry’s broom was vibrating so hard in his grip that it was almost impossible for him to hold on to it any longer. The whole crowd was on their feet, watching terrified as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their own brooms, but it was no good.

Every time they would get near him, his broom would jump higher. They then dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Captain Flint had seized the Quaffle and scored five times but no one had noticed.

“Come on, Hermione.” Neville and Evelyn both muttered desperately.

Suddenly, Harry was able to clamber back onto his broom and Evelyn groaned, placing her head into her hands. Watching her brother almost fall to his death was much scarier than the mountain troll had been.

Harry was suddenly speeding towards the ground when the crowd saw him clasp his hand around his mouth as though he was about to be sick and when he hit the field on all fours, Evelyn almost ran straight to him, until he gagged and coughed up something golden and winged into his hands.

“Harry Potter-Black has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!”

The entire game ended in complete and utter confusion, although none of the small group of friends were there to see it as they headed off to Hagrid’s hut, who was making them a cup of strong tea – Evelyn _loved_ tea.

“It was Professor Snape,” Neville muttered, “Hermione and Evelyn saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering. Hermione said he didn’t even blink.”

“I also said that Professor Quirrell was-”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid said, interrupting Evelyn. Even though he had stood directly behind them in the stands, apparently he hadn’t heard a single word of the conversation between Hermione and Evelyn. “Why would Snape do somethin’ like that?”

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks before Harry decided to tell Hagrid what they knew.

“We found out something about him, about _Snape,_ ” he told Hagrid. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. _It bit him!_ We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding in that corridor!”

The teapot in Hagrid’s hands dropped to the floor and a piece of the teapot chipped off on contact, rolling across the floor.

“How’d you know about Fluffy?” he said.

Evelyn frowned into her cup of tea, _Fluffy?_ Apparently everyone else had the same train of thought as Harry looked up at Hagrid in disbelief.

_“Fluffy?”_

“Yeah, he’s mine, bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-” Hagrid stopped, realising what he was about to say.

“Yes?” Harry said eagerly.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” Hagrid said, gruffly, as he picked up the chipped piece of the teapot that was still on his wooden flooring. “That’s top secret, that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to _steal_ it!”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid said again, causing Harry to huff and cross his arms over his chest. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothing’ of the sort.”

“So why did he just try and kill Harry?” Hermione cried.

Evelyn sighed, placing her cup onto the wooden table in front of her. “Professor Quirrell was staring at Harry just as much as Professor Snape was, Hermione.”

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” Hagrid said hotly. “I don’t know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh, yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel-”

“Aha!” Harry yelled, jumping from his seat, “so there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved is there?”

Hagrid looked furious with himself whilst Evelyn stared down at her now _cold_ cup of tea, miserably. She hated wasting a perfectly good cup of tea.


	12. Reassessing the Situation

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TWELVE  
REASSESSING THE SITUATION

 

“Nicolas Flamel is a celebrated alchemist, who is famous for creating the only known Philosopher’s Stone in existence. I believe he should be in one of the books in the library-”

“That’s it!” Hermione suddenly yelled, cutting Evelyn off from continuing her sentence.

Evelyn, Harry and Neville then found themselves running after Hermione as she ran through the castle and up a spiral staircase that led to Ravenclaw Tower. The door into the tower had no handle, door knob nor keyhole, only a plain expanse of aged wood and a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.

Hermione reached out a hand that was shaking with excitement and knocked once. At once, the beak of the eagle opened, but instead of a bird’s call, a soft, musical voice said, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But, if you do share me, you don't have me. What am I?”

“Hmm…” said Hermione, looking thoughtful.

“What? Isn’t there just a password?” Harry muttered, staring blankly at the knocker.

“A secret.” Hermione smiled after a few moments.

“Well done,” said the knocker and the door swung open.

Evelyn stood at the top of the staircase with Harry and Neville, watching Hermione disappear into the Ravenclaw common room and around a corner towards her dormitory.

“Why isn’t it a password?” Harry muttered again, looking between Evelyn and Neville.

“Ravenclaw House values wisdom and intelligence. A normal password would only show that they have good memories whilst a riddle shows those valued traits.”

Harry exchanged glances with Neville just as Hermione was running back through the door, an enormous old book - that Evelyn couldn’t make out the title of - clutched in her grasp.

The door closed with a surprisingly quiet click moments after.

“I never thought about looking in here!” she said, looking quite embarrassed with herself as she balanced the book on the stone bannister, rapidly skimming through it in search of something. “I checked this out of the library _weeks_ ago for some light reading!”

Evelyn hit back a laugh as Harry looked incredulously at Hermione. “Light? That is stupidly thick, Hermione! Merlin, what do you class as _heavy_ reading?”

Hermione only briefly glanced at him as she continued to rapidly flick through the pages, before she stopped, lifting up the book and holding it up for them to see, a broad grin on her face.

 _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal_ the passage that Hermione had tapped with her finger began. _There have been many reports of the Philosopher’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mister Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mister Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle, who is six hundred and fifty-eight._

“ _Of course._ ” Harry whispered, enlightenment dawning in his emerald green eyes as he and Neville looked at each other. “No _wonder_ they seem to be after this thing, anyone would want it if it turned anything gold and gives you as much life as you want.”

For a moment, they could only think about the possibilities offered by the possession of such an item, but then Hermione slammed the book shut, bringing them all back down to Earth.

“It is not just a bit _bloody_ _stupid_ to be keeping such an artefact inside of a _school._ ” Evelyn said, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a fake, a fake that’s indeed to draw out the person that’s trying to steal it. I mean, why else would Professor Dumbledore hide it in a school and _then_ tell the whole school not to go to the third-floor corridor! The very same corridor that it is hidden in!”

Evelyn blinked, staring at Hermione in surprise and shock. Both Harry and Neville had almost identical expressions. As Hermione noticed the looks, she blushed a deep and rich red.

“It makes sense! He didn’t just tell the whole school, he told all of the professors as well!”

Evelyn rubbed her forehead, trying to both rub away a headache that was creeping up on her and sort through her own knowledge about the two Professors.

“So Snape is going to try and steal the stone and-”

Evelyn held up her hand, interrupting Harry.

“Professor _Quirrell._ He did not have a shutter nor his turban before this year. I don’t believe this tale about vampires, zombies and hags that he uses to make people not question his turban nor that _horrible_ onion smell. No one has questioned his shutter because of the vampire tale. _You_ also said that Professor Quirrell was the one to tell everyone about the troll.”

“Yeah, but Snape had the bite on his leg Halloween.”

Evelyn shrugged, “Surely _Fluffy_ isn’t the only thing protecting the stone. Professor Snape _might_ have been checking anything else that is protecting the stone.”

“But-”

“Do you have any reason to believe that Professor Snape is trying to steal the stone other than his bitten leg and your broom, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, eyes flickering left to right.

“We should trail Quirrell, then. We can use other dad’s invisibility cloak so he doesn’t see us.”

Evelyn nodded, agreeing with her brother. Neville had also agreed almost instantly and Hermione was slightly hesitant to agree to Harry’s plan. So, later that night the Hogwarts Four set off after Professor Quirrell, wrapped in the somewhat safety of their invisibility cloak.

They all found it incredibly difficult to walk in time with four people in a cloak normally meant for _one_ grown adult person.

“I don’t exactly understand what our plan is.” Neville muttered, carefully moving his feet in time with the others.

Harry shrugged. “We can’t have a plan until we know what Quirrell is planning.”

“We really ought to learn how to put silencing spells on the cloak,” Hermione mumbled. “Invisibility cloaks are resistant to jinxes, hexes and other spells depending on how powerful they are…”

“There’s already wards on this one, Hermione. It was our biological fathers.” Evelyn replied, before holding her hand up in a sign for the others to be silent.

Walking past the hidden first-year student was Professor Snape and it seemed that he was heading towards the Forbidden Forest. The four friends exchanged looks before heading after Professor Snape as fast as they could and as quietly as they could.

The trees of the forest were extremely thick that they couldn’t really see where the Potions professor had gone. They went in circles, carefully moving through the forest so that they wouldn’t make an accidental noise. They knew they were close once they heard voices.

Making sure that they were close enough to hear what was going on but further enough away to not be heard themselves, they crouched down and carefully brushed a bush away enough for them to see through the small gap.

In a shadowy clearing, stood Professor Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Professor Quirrell was there, too. Evelyn couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. The four first-year students strained to catch what they were saying.

“D-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus.”

“Oh, I thought we’d keep this private,” said Professor Snape, his voice icy. “Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.”

Evelyn leant slightly forward to try and hear what Professor Quirrell was mumbling but Professor Snape interrupted him before she could catch a word of it.

“Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?”

“B-b-but Severus, I-”

“You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirinus,” said Professor Snape, taking a step toward the trembling Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

“I-I don’t know what you-”

“You know perfectly well what I mean.”

An owl hooted loudly, and Neville jumped in surprise, slightly shaking the bush they were all hidden behind. It had just stopped rustling in time for them to hear Professor Snape say, “your little bit of hocus-pocus. I’m waiting.”

“B-but I d-d-don’t-”

“Very well,” Professor Snape cut in. “We’ll have another little chat soon when you’ve had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie.”

He then threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost completely dark now, but Evelyn could see Professor Quirrell, standing still as though he had been petrified.

Harry then looked at Evelyn with raised eyebrows, and the reasoning behind the look was clear.

It was Professor Snape trying to get Professor Quirrell to steal the Philosopher’s Stone from him. Why he would use the trembling Defense Against the Dark Arts professor though puzzled her.


	13. 12 Grimmauld Place

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
12 GRIMMAULD PLACE

 

Snow came to the Highlands with a vengeance in December. By the second Sunday of the month, the grounds were completely covered with more than two feet of snow and the temperature was so cold that the Great Lake was now covered with thick ice.

Classrooms had become so cold that it was sometimes hard to hear the professors over the chattering of teeth and whenever someone talked they exhaled an icy mist.

“Do you think Aunt Andromeda is going to come over for Christmas?”

“Probably. She’s coming over to take me shopping, at the very least.” Evelyn replied, placing some chicken onto her plate, watching from the corner of her eye as the professors decorated the Great Hall in all sorts of Christmas decorations.

Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung from the walls and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles and others glittering with hundreds of candles. Professor Flitwick was even decorating a tree with golden bubbles that were blossoming out of the end of his wand, trailing them over the branches.

The four of them were going home for the holidays, having missed their families too much during the past few months that they had spent at Hogwarts. Of course, they _had_ sent their families letters regularly, but it wasn’t exactly the same as talking face to face.

“Are you guys eager for the holidays?” Hermione smiled.

“Definitely,” Neville replied, smiling back at their Ravenclaw friend. “I missed gran a lot. It will be great going home and spending some time with her again.”

Dinner continued with talks of plans of how everyone was going to spend the holidays, which then turned into comparing stories of how they had spent previous Christmases. Eventually, the food that had once covered the tables disappeared and Houses were starting to filter out of the Great Hall for bed.

It wasn’t that hard for Evelyn to find Harry and Neville the next day, both sitting in a compartment with Hermione, who had her head stuck into a book as usual.

Neville and Harry were playing a game of Wizards Chess on the table underneath the window, so Evelyn pulled out one of her drawing notebooks from her pouch and began to sketch out a variety of doodles.

She had been halfway through sketching a drawing of Fang - Hagrid’s oversized boarhound - when the train had rolled to a stop at Platform nine and three-quarters.

“See you after the holidays,” Hermione smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Hermione.” Evelyn replied with her own smile.

It didn’t take Evelyn long to find her father, although her brother had beaten her, already hanging off their father with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

Their father looked almost exactly the same as when the twins had left for Hogwarts, dressed in the silver-trimmed black robe of an Auror, his grey eyes were filled with joy and happiness of having his children back with him, even if it was only until school started up once again.

“Hey, pups.” Sirius smiled down at his children, pulling his daughter into a tight hug after releasing his son.

“It’s good to be home, dad.” Harry laughed, trying to smooth out his hair after their father had run his fingers through it, messing it up even more so than usual.

They made their way home and Evelyn was so glad to see their house that had shifted the muggle houses beside it, making itself visible once more.

As Evelyn stepped through the doorway, her truck disappeared and a loud thud upstairs told her that Kreacher had put her trunk into her room and had probably unpacked its contents as well.

She made her way to her bedroom, taking relief in the fact that her grandmother’s portrait was covered with curtains that made her voice mute and silent. She didn’t enjoy being insulted about her heritage whenever she walked past the portrait when the curtains had been moved aside.

As Evelyn collapsed onto her bed, there was a loud hiss from underneath the bed frame and suddenly her feet, which she had left dangling over the edge, were attacked by sharp claws.

“ _Garrison!”_ she hissed, leaning over the bed to pull the grey-furred kneazle out from underneath her bed by the scruff of his neck. He stared back at her with bright green eyes.

She then released her hold on her oldest pet, and he moved around her bed before making himself comfortable on the bed’s large, puffy pillows, slapping Evelyn with his lightly plumed lion-like tail as he went. Sighing, Evelyn rubbed him behind his large, pointed ears, rolling her eyes at the typical behaviour of her kneazle.

“Evelyn!”

Evelyn sat up, swinging her legs off her bed and made her way through the hallway before stopping just at the landing near the staircase.

“Yes, dad?” she said, leaning over the dark wooden bannister.

Sirius waved his hand slightly from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs, indicating towards the living room.

As she made her way down the stairs, Kreacher - who had a bulbous, snout-like nose, bloodshot eyes and many folds of skin and white hair growing out of his bat-like ears - was making his way up the stairs, probably to clean the portraits though out the house. Evelyn nodded her head, smiling down at the elderly elf before making her way into the living room.

Sinking into _her_ chair, as no-one else sat in the large leather chair by the fireplace, her father sat down on the couch next to Harry, who was eating from a plate of treacle tarts.

“How was your first term at Hogwarts then, pups?” he smiled.

“I’m a Seeker and Evelyn’s top of our year.” Harry said through a mouthful of treacle tarts.

“Yes, I know pup. I’m so proud of both of you.”

Evelyn smiled at the look in her father’s eyes, just as he stole a treacle tart from Harry’s plate with a grin. Harry glared at their father, moving around so he was hiding the plate with his body.

“Evelyn.” Sirius suddenly said as he looked at his daughter, critically. “Now, what’s this I’ve heard about you fighting a _troll.”_

“I was in the bathroom with my friend and suddenly there’s a troll in the room with us?”

Sirius nodded, indicating for her to continue.

“I went to the bathroom because I heard that Hermione had been in there all day crying, so I went to see what had happened. The Weasley in our year, Ronald, had been bullying her the entire term so as we were able to leave, this _smell_ filled the bathroom and I saw these two toes and pulled Hermione into one of the stalls.”

And so she continued, telling her father everything she hadn’t written in her letter.

For the rest of the day, after Sirius had hugged his daughter tightly for a few minutes, they all sat in the living room, telling tales of what else had happened when they had been apart.

“Oh, Evelyn.” Sirius said just as Evelyn started to head back up to her bedroom to turn in for the night. “Lily’s out in the garden.”

With a nod, Evelyn redirected her path, instead heading towards the garden to find her kit. It was fairly easy to find Lily, as she was sat underneath one of the smaller trees in the garden, munching on some dandelions that were around the base of the tree trunk.

Crouching down, Evelyn called out to her. “Lily! Here girl!”

A small white and cream head looked up instantly and once dark blue eyes fell onto Evelyn, Lily hopped across the garden in an almost gallop style gait. As soon as she was close enough, Evelyn scooped up her mini lop kit, scratching behind her ears as she set off towards her bedroom.

It had taken months to finally get Lily to respond to her name.

Pushing open her bedroom door, Evelyn could see that Garrison was already in his bed, his eyes closed and purring softly. As Evelyn set Lily down onto the wooden flooring, she heard a soft scraping, as though something was being dragged across the glass.

She realised at once that it was flippers being moved across the glass and smiled as she spotted Comet, her musk turtle. Like Lily and Garrison’s beds – which had once been cabinets underneath her bookshelves – Comet’s aquarium had once been two bookshelf slots. Remington, who was Evelyn’s red-eyed tree frog, lived on the shelf above Comet and his tank only took up one slot in her bookshelf.

Evelyn had found that turning her bookshelves into places for her animals left her with a lot of space in the rest of her room. So much so that she had gotten a large brown and white chaise lounge sofa with a matching pouffe in front of her fireplace instead of her old single seater chair.

After changing into her pyjamas, Evelyn went to bed, with a soft smile on her face. She was quite delighted to be back in her own room, snuggling underneath her quilts.

For the past couple of months, she had gotten used to the sounds of her roommate's breathing. Of Millicent Bulstrode’s loud snoring. The only noise she heard now was the soft creaking of her bed when she rolled over and the quiet footsteps of Kreacher as he walked through the house.

A fluttering of wings or a soft hoot coming from Saoirse’s cage which was sat on her dresser and some from her brother’s room. The padding of paws as Garrison moved around in his bed and the sound of Lily drinking from her water bottle or clicking her back teeth together.

Evelyn smiled into her pillow, happy to once again be surrounded by her family and by her beloved animals. In Slytherin, she was alone. Harry was in Gryffindor, Neville in Hufflepuff and Hermione was up in the Ravenclaw tower.

Slowly, Evelyn drifted off into a peaceful sleep.


	14. Aunt Andromeda

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
AUNT ANDROMEDA

 

Evelyn rolled over, slowly opening her eyes, blinking at the sunlight that was shining through the gap in her curtains. Glancing at the clock that hung over her desk, she saw that it was just after five in the morning.

As she stood, her toes brushing against the wooden flooring, she stretched her arms.

Making her way towards her bay window, she brushed her fingers against the dark blue curtains, moving them to the side, exposing the thin layer of snow that covered the garden.

Evelyn didn’t feel cold, for the fire that she had lit the previous night was still burning a bright orange colour inside of her fireplace, behind the screen door. She only ever unlocked the door when she was relighting the fire or adding more firewood. Garrison had almost burnt his tail in the fire when he was a kitten and thus the fireplace had been covered with a screen ever since.

Running a brush through her long black hair, Evelyn spotted Lily looking at her through the grid-like window that had been put in the right-hand side door of Lily’s cabinet bed.

Evelyn made her way over to Lily, who immediately hopped out of the open cabinet, rubbing her tiny head against Evelyn’s ankle before hopping around the room, pushing a ball made of willow with her nose as she went.

After she showered and changed into warm clothes, Evelyn grabbed a large, leather bound book from the bookshelf attached to her desk. Unclasping the lock, she flicked through the papers until she came to a blank page. Then for the next few hours, Evelyn drew in her book.

She drew Lily playing with her willow ball. Garrison sprawled across the bay window seat, looking upon the cold weather. Saoirse staring down at Lily from the top of the bookshelves on Evelyn’s desk where she was perched. She drew Comet splashing in the water of her aquarium, Remington sitting on his tree branch and she drew her two Siamese fighting fish, Lupi and Atria, swimming around in their respective bowls.

A sharp knock on the door made Evelyn looked up from her drawing of the meadow surrounding her aunt’s house and stables. Dressed in a black dressing gown and stood in her doorway, her father rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Your aunt is here, Evelyn. She’s going to take you to Diagon Alley.”

Locking her notebook up once again and placing it back onto its shelf, Evelyn placed a quick kiss on her father’s cheek as she walked past him and made her way towards the front door.

Andromeda Tonks had light, slightly curled brown hair that rested upon her shoulders and dark brown eyes. She was dressed in a thick, black cloak that was clasped together with a broach and thick furred gloves covered her hands.

She smiled warmly as Evelyn made her way down the stairs.

“Hello, sweetheart. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, auntie. I made a new friend whilst as Hogwarts so I need to buy a present for her, also.”

Andromeda blinked in surprise before a much larger smile made its way across her lips.

“Oh, Evelyn, that is great news!”

Evelyn knew that her family had been worried that she won’t make friends whilst at Hogwarts and the proud and happy looks that they gave her once she told them about Hermione made her smile along with them.

“I figured we would start at Flourish and Blotts,” Andromeda said, “then we can decide where we are to go next from there.”

Evelyn nodded her head, figuring that her aunt had a good plan. She then clasped her hand onto her aunt’s arm and with a smile and nod, she felt said arm twist away from her. Everything around her went black and she was pressed tightly from all directions. She could hardly breathe, it felt as though iron bands were tightening around her chest.

Her eyeballs were being forced back into her head, her eardrums were being pushed deeper into her skull and then suddenly, it all stopped and everything returned to normal.

They were in an alleyway near the Leaky Cauldron, which was one of the more commonly used entrances to Diagon Alley, although muggleborns used it more than anybody else.

For such a famous place, the Leaky Cauldron was very dark and shabby. There was a dark wood bar and a number of tables and chairs in the darkest shadow of the corners. In the next part of the room was a long, wooden table and a staircase that led upstairs, where there were rooms where passing wizards and witches could stay for the night. There was another staircase just underneath the other that led into the basement that had always been locked off.

The walls were plastered with pictures in frames and posters and news clippings from the Ministry of Magic and a large chalkboard with the pub’s food menu scrawled across.

“So, tell me all about Hogwarts, sweetheart,” Andromeda said as she ushered Evelyn out the back door into a small courtyard. The dustbin was ignored as Andromeda pulled out her wand and tapped the correct brick three times. The pair waited patiently as the archway slowly appeared, revealing Diagon Alley.

“It has been good, auntie.” Evelyn answered. “I’ve made a new friend, a muggleborn witch called Hermione Granger and I _believe_ I am doing quite well in my classes.”

Andromeda smiled, pressing her hand against her mouth as she laughed softly.

“I would not be surprised if you are at the top of your year, Evelyn. I’m glad you made a new friend. Hermione, you said her name was?”

Evelyn nodded, briefly glancing at the Quidditch shop as they walked past the window.

As they entered the bookstore, Evelyn felt slightly warmer. She trailed her fingers along the shelves as she looked along the bookshelves for books to buy. They didn’t have any interesting ones for her, but there were a few books on Herbology that she bought for Neville.

They stopped by a sweet shop and Andromeda bought a box of pumpkin pasties for Evelyn’s father, who loved pumpkin pasties just as much as Harry loved treacle tarts.

“How about we find some nice jewellery for your friend?” Andromeda asked as they stopped by Miss Elena’s, which was the largest and probably fanciest jewellery store in Diagon Alley.

Evelyn nodded with a smile, following her aunt into the jewellery store. She had been disappointed when she hadn’t found any books that Hermione would have wanted. She didn’t even know if Hermione wore jewellery, but it was the thought that counted most.

They spent far longer than they really should have in the shop. Andromeda kept getting distracted by necklaces and rings she liked for herself, as her daughter Nymphadora, wasn’t a jewellery type of person. Evelyn ended up buying a long, silver necklace with a large blue stone in the centre for her aunt when she wasn’t looking.

She still hadn’t found anything for Hermione.

The next shop they went into was a trinket shop, for Aunt Andromeda loved old trinkets. Evelyn walked around, carefully brushing her fingers across the edges of items on display. It was then that Evelyn noticed the display case that was on the corner by the shop’s owner.

There were bookmarks that featured layers of lucite flowers, a large filigree flower and a floral hummingbird that Evelyn thought looked quite beautiful.

There was purple, blue and pink layered flowers and Evelyn decided there and then that she was buying one of each colour. She would give Hermione the purple one as lilac was her favourite colour and she would keep the other two for herself.

Who knows, she might just end up using the pink one for a birthday or Christmas present the following year as one could not have enough bookmarks – especially Hermione and herself.

They stopped by a little café for lunch, Evelyn happily enjoying a plate of hot spaghetti and a lovely, hot cup of tea. Andromeda had ordered a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee.

They stopped at the Quidditch shop Evelyn had glanced at previously and bought Harry a pair of Seeker Gloves and Quidditch Goggles.

After they had finished shopping and the day got colder as the sun started to set, Andromeda took Evelyn home, kissed her on the cheek and apparated back to her own house.

Evelyn took her shopping up to her room, switched on the muggle radio that sat on her desk - which had been charmed to connect to magical stations - and began to wrap the presents as the Weird Sisters began to play throughout her room, quietly but clearly.

Lily had ended up tangling herself in bright blue ribbon and Evelyn found it so cute that she snapped a photo with her camera, which had been a gift from Nymphadora the previous year.

The days then disappeared in a flash. Evelyn spent most days in the snow, trying to hide from her father and Harry who wanted to throw snowballs at her, they made a large snowman and Evelyn put an old, battered hat that she was sure used to belong to her grandmother on its head.

Having no carrots as Lily had eaten them all the previous day, Harry stuck a long branch into its face, declaring that it was most _definitely_ grandmother Walburga now.

Their evenings were spent by the fireplace in the living room, warming up and toasting marshmallows in the fireplace or drinking mugs of hot chocolate and tea. Then they would decorate the house for Christmas, covering it with garland, putting ornaments on the tree and moving figures of reindeer on top of the fireplace.

Like when Evelyn was wrapping up presents, Lily would try and get into, run off with and or chase everything. Evelyn had to lock her in her bedroom, in the end, letting the rabbit play with her ball of willow and attempt to play with Garrison, who was as grumpy as always.


	15. Christmas

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
CHRISTMAS

 

Evelyn woke on Christmas morning, warm and comfortable underneath her quilts. Like every Christmas before, Evelyn wrapped herself in her dressing gown and then headed downstairs where Harry and her father were already sat on the couch, large, dark bags underneath their eyes that told Evelyn that neither of them had actually gone to sleep the previous night.

“Merry Christmas.”

Sirius smiled, barely looking over his cup of coffee and Harry groaned, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. When the men in her family didn’t sleep, they got headaches.

Evelyn reached underneath the Christmas tree and pulled over a present wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper and silver ribbon. She flicked over the card attached to the ribbon which said that the present was to her and from Aunt Andromeda and Uncle Edward.

Inside the large box were several cases of potions ingredients and another case filled with various knives of different sizes and makes for her to use when brewing her potions.

She got a large pot of colourful calla lilies from Neville and several books about flowers and the Victorian language of flowers. She would find out later that night that calla lilies were ‘beauty’.

“Gran got me hair pins again, dad.” Evelyn smiled, holding up the blue crystal, dangly hair pins for her father to see, before returning to the tree to open her present from Nymphadora, which turned out to be a dark blue dictation quill which had a very detailed silver casting around it.

She had also gotten the books she had wanted from her father, a large box filled with various drawing and painting equipment from her Uncle Remus – who was the only reason Evelyn could draw like she could - and Harry had gotten her a large, leather bound photo album and a journal.

Hermione had gotten her an extremely thick book on muggle fairy tales. Some of the tales Evelyn already knew about from her mother’s books, whilst others she had never heard of.

Evelyn had even got a present from Hagrid. It was a roughly cut wooden flute with what looked like a sketch of Saoirse carved into the top. Evelyn _could_ play it, but she could play the piano and violin much better than she could play the flute.

A few hours later, Evelyn was seated at the dining room table, Nymphadora sat opposite her, trying to get her to laugh as she morphed her hair different colours and her nose different shapes. Evelyn poked her tongue out at her quickly, just in case her grandmother suddenly appeared in time to see her very ‘unladylike’ and ‘unsophisticated’ behaviour.

Suddenly, Nymphadora’s features morphed back into their natural shapes and colours. Her hair turned its natural mousy brown, although it was still shaped in a short spiky hairstyle, her face was pale and heart shaped and her eyes were dark and twinkling with mischief.

Evelyn saw the reason behind Nymphadora’s sudden transformation when their grandmother walked through the doorway, her usual hat with a stuffed vulture on had probably been hung up on the coat stand by the front door, although she was still carrying her bright, red handbag.

Augusta Longbottom was a formidable looking witch. She was tall, thin and bony with short grey hair that was cut just at her shoulders and her eyes were a hazel brown just like Neville’s.

“Merry Christmas, Evelyn, Nymphadora.”

“Merry Christmas, Gran.” Evelyn and Nymphadora smiled, watching as their grandmother took her usual seat next to the head of the table, although Nymphadora quickly groaned into her drink at the use of her full forename.

No matter how much she tried to get her family to _stop_ using her name, they wouldn’t.

Soon after, their family was gathered around the table. Sirius sat at the head of the table, Aunt Andromeda sat the opposite side of Grandma Augusta and Uncle Edward – who had fair hair, bright grey eyes and thick stubble with a mellow and pleasant voice – sat next to her. Harry was seated next to their grandmother and Neville.

“Dad. Where’s Uncle Moony?”

“He went to spend Christmas with his father, Harry. Apparently, he hasn’t felt well for a while.”

 “Oh.” Harry muttered, sadden by the fact their uncle wasn’t spending Christmas with them but more sadden by the fact that Grandpa Lyall, as they called him, was ill. The rest of the day went by rather fast, as Evelyn had always found it did when she was surrounded by her family.

Nymphadora excitingly told everyone how her Auror training was going before asking Evelyn’s father if he would help her with her clumsiness. Neville told everyone about all the new plants and herbs he had added to his garden and Aunt Andromeda asked if she could see them soon.

Harry talked to everyone about Quidditch, Sirius talked about some dark wizards he had caught and Evelyn showed everyone her sketch book.

All in all, it was a typical day in the Black residence and Evelyn wondered if Hermione would enjoy spending the next Christmas with her family.


	16. Confrontations and a Dragon Egg

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
CONFRONTATIONS AND A DRAGON EGG

 

The next school term started with almost nothing exciting to break the monotony of classes and homework. The timetable was _exactly_ the same as that of which they had during the autumn term, so sadly for Evelyn, Potions was at the end of the week.

Harry and Neville were more determined in their _‘quest’_ of finding out Professor Snape’s plan involving the Philosopher’s Stone and why he was using Professor Quirrell to get it.

Harry’s first game of the next term was today and once again Evelyn found herself in the Gryffindor viewing stand, standing beside her best friend and her cousin.

“I’ve never seen Snape look so mean…” Neville muttered, staring down at the field, as the two teams flew up into the air, spreading out in preparation for the game ahead.

“Oh, sorry Weasley, didn’t see you there,” a familiar voice sounded from behind the three friends as someone – Ronald from Draco’s _apology –_ yelped in sudden surprise.

Glancing at the Quidditch field, Evelyn saw that Professor Snape had just awarded a penalty to the Hufflepuff team because a Bludger thrown by one of the Weasley twins had come too close to him, but otherwise, nothing seemed to be particularly wrong – like a hexed broom.

“You know how _I_ think they pick people for the Gryffindor team?” Draco said, in a tone of voice that Evelyn didn’t care for one bit. “It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s the Weasleys, who have _no_ money, and then there’s Potter, who-”

He suddenly stopped, as he found himself with Evelyn’s wand pointed directly at his face.

“If you even _think_ about finishing that sentence,” she began coldly, her eyes narrowed as she stared at her fellow Slytherin who had found himself at the wrong end of her wand, “no matter what you were going to say, you’ll soon find yourself with yourself hexed or _worse_. Am I understood, _Draco Malfoy?_ ”

Draco stared at Evelyn, unwilling to talk back to someone who had their wand pointed at his nose, and sat down in his seat in silence.

“Evelyn! Neville!” said Hermione suddenly, “Harry!”

“What? Where?”

Evelyn quickly turned around to face the game once again, watching as her brother had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive which had drawn gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers by her mouth, as Harry streaked towards the ground like a lightning bolt.

“Come on, Harry!” Hermione screamed, leaping forwards to watch as Harry flew straight at Professor Snape, who had turned on his broomstick just in time to see a blur of scarlet shoot past him, only missing him by inches and in the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

“The game’s over! Harry’s won! Gryffindor’s won! They’re in the lead!” shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down, pulling Evelyn into her highly undignified victory dance, which involved a lot of hand waving and butt waggling.

Evelyn watched from over Hermione’s shoulders as Harry jumped off his broom, his team spilling down off their own brooms and Professor Snape landed slightly further back, white-faced and tight-lipped as Professor Dumbledore laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder with a smile.

Professor Snape had even spat bitterly at the ground.

“Boys and their games,” Hermione giggled into Evelyn’s ear and Evelyn chuckled, for Hermione was just into Quidditch as any of the boys. Maybe even more so.

Neville and Harry had both groaned with a surprising force once Hermione had said that everyone needed to begin studying for their exams.

Evelyn wasn’t exactly sure why someone needed _more_ than ten weeks to study for their exams. Her father said that they were so easy that they could be passed in a half asleep state whilst Uncle Remus had said that three weeks at _maximum_ was enough to pass their first-year exams.

The professors seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione and began to pile so much homework on them that the Easter holidays disappeared under a haze of homework.

Hermione had even drawn up study schedules and colour coded all of her notes.

Evelyn quite enjoyed Harry and Neville’s face when Hermione began reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and began practising wand movements for various spells and charms. Moaning and yawning the entire way through the holidays, Harry and Neville spent most of their free time in the library with Hermione and Evelyn, trying to power their way through all their extra work.

“I’ll never remember this,” Neville burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. His lips were in a fine line and his hands clenched in fists.

Harry was currently looking up ‘Dittany _’_ in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi,_ Hermione was practising her wand movements for various Transfiguration charms and Evelyn was drawing in her doodle notebook, having already finished her set revision for the day.

“Hagrid? What are you doing in the library?”

Evelyn looked up from her sketch of Hermione as Hagrid shuffled into view, looking very out of place in his moleskin overcoat, and hiding something behind his back.

“Jus’ lookin’,” he said, in a shifty voice that caught their interest at once. “An’ what’re you lot up ter?” he looked suddenly, very suspicious. “Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”

Harry waved his hand in the air, dismissively, “Oh, we found out who he was ages ago, Evelyn knew. _And_ we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“ _Shhhh!”_ Hagrid said, looking around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?

“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact,” Harry said, “like what’s guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy as-”

“ _Shhhh!_ ” Hagrid repeated. “Listen, come an’ see me later, I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’t go rabbitin’ about it in here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll know I’ve told yeh-”

“See you later, then,” Harry sighed, turning his attention back towards his work.

Hagrid shuffled off, quickly ramming the mysterious book into his overly large sized pocket.

“What was he hiding behind his back?” said Hermione, thoughtfully.

“I’m going to see what section he was in,” Neville said, disappearing behind the shelves of books. He turned a minute later with a pile of books in his arms, dropping them down onto the table with a loud bang and thankfully it seemed Madam Pince was busy with some other students.

 _“Dragons!”_ he whispered, his voice full of wonder. “Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragons Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon’s Keeper’s Guide.”_

Harry peered at the content of the books, the same thought process that everyone else was thinking of, now running through his own mind.

Hagrid had always said that he wanted a dragon. He had wanted one since childhood.

“It’s against the law,” Hermione sighed, already knowing that Hagrid wasn’t going to care that having a dragon was against the law. “Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlock’s Convention of Seventeen-Nine, _everyone_ knows that.”

Hermione’s books disappeared into her bag before she slung it over her shoulder and she then made her way out of the library to head to Hagrid’s, everyone else following after her.

Hagrid’s house was stifling hot. Even though it was already a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea, which Hermione and Evelyn happily accepted and then offered them stoat sandwiches, which _everyone_ refused.

“So, yeh wanted to ask me somethin’?”

“Yes,” Harry said, rubbing the back of Fang’s head. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’s Stone _apart_ from Fluffy.”

“O’ course I can’t,” Hagrid frowned. “Number one, I don’t know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’t tell yeh if I could. That’s Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost outta Gringotts. Beats me how yeh even know abou’ Fluffy.”

“Oh, _come on,_ Hagrid. You might not want to tell us, but you _do_ know, you know _everything_ that goes on round here,” said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice that Evelyn didn’t even know she could speak in, she almost always spoke in her usual bossy tone.

Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.

“We only wondered who had _done_ the guarding, really.” Hermione went on. “We wondered who Professor Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you, of course.”

Hagrid’s chest swelled at those last words. Harry and Neville beamed at Hermione whilst Evelyn happily drank her cup of tea. Hagrid made a lovely cup of tea. He just couldn’t cook.

“Well, I don’ s’ppose it could hurt ter tell yeh that. Let’s see… Dumbledore borrowed Fluffy from me and then some o’ the teachers did enchantments; Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Quirrell.”

“ _Snape? Quirrell?”_

Evelyn knew that everyone else was thinking the same thing as she was. If Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape had been in on protecting the Philosopher’s Stone, then it must have been _easy_ to find out how the other professors had guarded it. He probably knew everything, except it seemed, how to get past Fluffy.

“You’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t you, Hagrid?” Harry said, anxiously. “And you wouldn’t tell _anyone,_ would you? Not even one of the professors?”

“Not a soul knows except me an’ Dumbledore,” said Hagrid, proudly.  

Seeing how easy it was to get information out of him previously and just now, Evelyn wasn’t sure just how safe that information really was.

“Well, that’s something.” Harry muttered, continuing to scratch behind Fang’s ears. “Hagrid, can we have a window open? I’m boiling.”

“Can’t, Harry, sorry.” said Hagrid, glancing at the fire.

Evelyn’s eyes widened once she saw what was in the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle. A large sized egg that was almost amber in colour.

“Ah…”  said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard once everyone’s attention had switched to look at the egg. “That’s, er…”

Evelyn drained her cup of tea before moving towards the fire, crouching down to get a closer look at the egg. She wasn’t an expert on dragon’s but she was planning on becoming a Magizoologists as she loved animals.

An egg seemed like as good a place as any to start for a deadly, fire-breathing dragon.

“Where did you get it, Hagrid? Dragon eggs cost a fortune.”

“Won it.” he smiled, looking down at the egg with glowing pride. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.”

“A stranger gave you a dragon egg in a _card game?”_ muttered Evelyn in disbelief.

“But what are you going to do with it once it’s hatched?” said Hermione, eyeing the egg.

“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” Hagrid began, pulling a large book out from underneath his pillow. “Got this outta the library, _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit,_ it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause their mothers breathe on ‘em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken bloody every half hour. An’ see here, how ter recognise diffi’rent eggs. What I’ve got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.”

Hagrid may have looked very pleased with himself, but the look of horror on both Hermione and Evelyn’s faces said that they did not.

“ _You live in a wooden hut!”_ they yelled, simultaneously.

Hagrid wasn’t listening to them, though. He was humming a merry tune as he stoked the fire.

“Professor Kettleburn.”

Every head turned towards Evelyn, a wide grin scratching Hermione’s cheeks upwards.

“Of course, Professor Kettleburn! He would be able to make sure the dragon is cared for and _safely_ removed, without anything burning down or worse!”

The look on Hagrid’s face could only be described as heartbreaking. He moved his body so he was covering the fireplace protectively.

“I bin always wantin’ one…”

“Having a dragon is illegal if you do not have a license, Hagrid.” Evelyn said, trying to reason with the troublesome gamekeeper, “you could go to Azkaban for up to _three_ years. What’s going to happen to all your other pets, then?”

A soft whimper from Fang was all it took for Hagrid to sigh and nod his head, agreeing that it was for the best for Professor Kettleburn to take his dragon egg and remove it from Hogwarts.

Evelyn was just glad that they got Hagrid to give the egg over to Professor Kettleburn _before_ it hatched. An egg was a lot easier to transport than a baby dragon.


	17. Harry's Gryffindorness

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
HARRY'S GRYFFINDORNESS

 

The entire year sat in sweltering hot classrooms as they attempted their practical and written exams. Professor Flitwick had called each of them one by one into his classroom to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across his desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox, with points being taken away if it had whiskers and points being given for how pretty their snuff boxes ended up. Professor Snape made practically everyone nervous, breathing down their necks whilst they attempted to brew a Forgetfulness potion.

They had to perfectly map out the night's sky for Professor Sinistra, identify several different plants for Professor Sprout, demonstrate the spells one would use to protect themselves against unfriendly spells for Professor Quirrell and their very last exam was History of Magic.

One hour of answering questions about ancient witches and wizards who invented self-stirring cauldrons for Professor Binns was exactly one hour too long for Evelyn's liking. Professor Binns had taught her nothing all year long, except that he _hated_ goblins.

After exams had finished, Evelyn ended up being dragged by Neville whilst Harry was dragging Hermione as they ran towards Hagrid's hut.

"What is going on? Boys!" Hermione cried, as they ran – although they were dragged more than they ran themselves - down the broken, wonky steps that led to Hagrid's wooden house.

"Doesn't it strike either of you as odd that Hagrid just happened to run into someone who had a dragon egg in his pocket? Who carries a dragon egg around with them and then hands it over to someone in a card game?"

Hermione and Evelyn exchanged looks; it _had_ crossed their minds, but at the time they had been more worried about a fire-breathing dragon living inside of a wooden house.

When they all had arrived at Hagrid's cabin, they found him sitting on the steps, trousers and sleeves rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large wooden bowl. Fang came over to lick Harry's hand before sitting down next to Neville's feet.

"Hullo," Hagrid said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please-" Evelyn and Hermione begin to say, but Harry cuts them off.

"No, sorry, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I wanted to ask you about when you got the dragon egg," Harry said, glaring at his twin sister and her best friend.

"What abou' it?" Hagrid asked warily, abandoning the peas he had been swelling inside of the wooden bowl that was sitting in front of his large feet.

Harry paused, eyes flickering left and right.

"Well, you know that night you won the dragon egg? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, shrugging his shoulders, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

Evelyn saw Harry and Neville exchange looks, whilst Hermione just shrugged her shoulders at Evelyn. A lot of people wore their cloaks constantly and didn't remove them when indoors.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head, that's one o' the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down onto his knees next to the bowl of peas.

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid?"

"Well, I'd told him about workin' at Hogwarts, o' course. Mighta mentioned, I'd always wanted a dragon. He asked if I'd be able to take care of it, so I told him about some of the other creatures I've looked after."

"Other creatures?" Hermione asked, peering around the area surrounding Hagrid's home.

"O' course, yer know, Fluffy-"

"Did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"O' course he did! How many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet? In fact, I told him, after Fluffy, I reckon a dragon'd be easy. Though with Fluffy, all yeh gotta do to calm him down is play a bit o' music. Sends 'em straight to sleep, that does."

The group of four exchanged looks in trepidation.

Hagrid stood up instantly, several small, green peas rolling down his body. "I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out, looking horrified.

"No, it's alright, we won't tell anyone. Promise," Harry said quickly, crossing two of his fingers together and holding them up for Hagrid to see.

"Aye, see that yeh don't. That's worth more than me job, that is."

Harry nodded whilst slowly standing back up onto his feet. "We'll, er, we'll just get going then. Nice to see you!"

As soon as they were far enough away from Hagrid's hearing range, Harry stopped and looked around them to check if anyone was near before turning his attention back to them.

"Don't you see? The man in the pub that must have been either Quirrell or Snape. Hagrid's told him how to get past Fluffy!"

Hermione paused for a few moments before nodding her head to the thoughts that had just run through her head.

"We need to tell Dumbledore," she said, looking at them as if daring for them to disagree.

"Do you know where his office is?" Harry asked.

"It's on the second floor, on gargoyle corridor."

Evelyn stared blankly at her friends and family as they turned towards her with expressions of shock and surprise. She shrugged her shoulders.

She had found the Headmaster's office a few months ago, during one of her morning runs.

Evelyn ended up leading them all towards the direction of the Headmaster's office, trying to shuffle through all the passwords she had overheard professors saying to the gargoyle that guarded the stairwell.

For some reason they all involved sweets, so it wouldn't be _too_ hard to guess one.

"What are the four of you doing inside on a day like this?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn could see Professor McGonagall carrying a large stack of books and was peering over the top of them to look at the four first-year students.

"We'd like to see the Headmaster, please." Hermione said politely.

"See the Headmaster? Why?" Professor McGonagall asked suspiciously.

At the silent that fell around them, Professor McGonagall pursed her lips together and her eyes scanned across the crests on their robes. It was definitely rare to see a snake, beaver, lion and eagle together, more so considering that they were friends.

The group of four looked at each other. "Er…"

Professor McGonagall sighed, before pushing up her glasses with her fingers, the stack of books now hovering in mid-air. Evelyn and Hermione exchanged looks at Professor McGonagall's nonverbal and wandless magic. "Professor Dumbledore has received an urgent owl from the Ministry and flew off for London, ten minutes ago."

"He's gone? But he can't!" Neville cried.

"I assure you, Mister Longbottom, the Headmaster is quite capable of such a feat, no matter how it may dismay you. Now, I don't want to hear another word. Go back outside."

They all walked sullenly back outside and once they were further enough away from Professor McGonagall, Harry stopped and spun around on the heel of his shoes, hands dug deeply into his pockets, shoulders set back.

"It's tonight. Snape or Quirrell's going through that trapdoor _tonight_. He's found out everything he needs and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, _I know it,_ I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up. I'm going after the Stone. I'm going to get it before either one of them does."

"And just _what_ are you going to do if you get it?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at Harry with raised eyebrows.

Harry shrugged, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Take it to Dumbledore. I mean, if I can get it, it probably wasn't very well protected in the first place, now was it?"

Evelyn nodded. Hiding a powerful object, such as the Philosopher's stone, in a school wasn't Professor Dumbledore's brightest idea to date, even if Hermione's theory was true.

"When are we going to do this, Harry?"

"We?" Harry blinked, staring at Neville in shock.

"I'm not leaving you to do this all alone, Harry." Neville scoffed.

Hermione turned to Evelyn, worry swimming in her dark brown eyes. Evelyn sighed, before nodding her head in agreement with Neville. It wasn't _exactly_ Slytherin behaviour, but she wasn't about to let any of them get hurt.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair once again. "Fine. Fine. Okay, we met after dinner and go straight to one of the bathrooms. I'll bring the cloak. We'll wait until everyone's asleep and then sneak out."

"I'll bring my flute, then. Hagrid _did_ say that Fluffy fell asleep to music. I do not want to risk going against a hellhound, do you?" Hermione said, glancing around at the others.


	18. Broken Pieces

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
BROKEN PIECES

 

From the moment they had all left the bathroom, everyone was as quiet as they could possibly be. Filch was struggling to polish the suits of armour from atop of a tall ladder, whilst Missus Norris was pacing around the base. The smell of the polish Filch was using was strong enough that she couldn’t smell them.

The Hogwarts Four didn’t run into anyone else until they got to the stairway to the third floor. Peeves – the local poltergeist – was floating above the stairs as he loosened the carpet in order to trip up unsuspecting students and professors.

Peeves was of a small stature, with wickedly slanted orange eyes. He wore loud, outlandish clothes that included a bell-covered hat and an orange bow tie. He had a head of black hair and unlike the Hogwarts ghosts, Peeves was solid-looking, not pearly-white and slightly transparent.

As soon as they were close enough to him, his head snapped up like a whip. “Who’s there? Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?”

They said nothing, holding their breaths for as long as they could. After a few moments of silence, Peeves huffed and hovered away, disappearing through the wall that led to one of the many empty classrooms.

“Bugger.” Harry muttered, staring at the corridor door that was slightly ajar.

Fluffy was awake and growling, a harp lay broken and smashed underneath his paws. Hermione nodded to herself, before pulling out the flute Hagrid given her for Christmas from her robe pocket and began to play – apparently, Hagrid had given them _all_ flutes with varying carvings.

It wasn’t a familiar tone to the magically raised children, but it did the trick none the less. Fluffy’s heads drop, he tottered on his paws and then fell to his knees, before slumping to the ground, fast asleep.

Neville and Harry slowly made their way over to a trapdoor on the floor. Evelyn shoved the discharged and forgotten cloak into her pouch.

“What can you see?” she asked, keeping her attention on Hermione, who was still playing her flute.

“Nothing. It’s too dark, I can’t see any stairs.” Harry sighed before grinning. “I’ll go down first; it only seems right since it was my idea to come here. Gryffindor, away.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes as Harry took a breath and jumped through the trapdoor hole. Neville soon jumped after him and Evelyn gripped onto Hermione’s robes, slowly moving her towards the trapdoor whilst she was still playing the unfamiliar muggle tune on her flute.

Taking a breath, Evelyn tightened her grip on Hermione’s robes and jumped, pulling Hermione down with her to which Hermione gave a loud shriek of surprise and both the silence of the flute no longer playing and Hermione’s shriek made the hellhound growl and twitch, now awake again. His jaws snapped at the trapdoor, only missing Hermione by a fraction.

Evelyn _felt_ rather than saw the walls rushing past them as they fell. Just as she began to think that she was going to be falling forever, she landed on something soft. As she looked around her, she knew instantly what she had landed on.

The way Neville and Harry were frozen, not moving a single inch, confirmed that they also knew.

“ _Devil’s Snare.”_ Neville sighed, once the two girls had landed onto the deadly plant.

Hermione gave a sudden shriek, slapping at a vine that had begun winding its way around her waist.

“Neville!” Hermione shrieked, desperate for help from the Herbology expert in their small group.

“Shush!” he cried, pressing his hand against his forehead. As soon as Evelyn noticed his eyes grow wide, he had his wand out and pointed downwards at the vines of the Devil’s Snare plant.

_“ **Lumos!** ”_

As soon as the light erupted from Neville’s wand, the vines surrounding them cringed away from the light with an unearthly shriek. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from around them and they quickly scrambled to move to the wall of the passageway they were currently in.

“It’s a good thing Neville loves Herbology.” Harry muttered, rubbing a point on his neck where a vine had whipped him when it had moved to hide from the light. He then set off down the passage and Evelyn nudged Hermione forward softly.

There was silence as they moved down the passage, the only sounds being heard were their footsteps and breathing and the quiet drip of water running down the walls.

Soon enough, though, they could hear a quiet clinking noise.

“What is it?” Neville asked, trying to peer over Harry’s shoulder.

“Don’t know. There’s more light up there, though.” Harry replied. “I think I can see something up ahead, moving.”

The passageway suddenly opened up into a large, well-lit chamber. Beneath its high ceiling was a mass of brightly coloured bird looking beings.

“That’s it? Birds? How are birds worse than Fluffy _and_ the Devil’s Snare?” Hermione asked, contemptuously.

Harry peered up before a slight frown appeared across his face.

“I don’t think they’re birds.”

With these words, the others followed his gaze.

“Do they look like keys to anyone?” Neville muttered after a few moments.

“Yeah…” Harry looked around the chamber, flicking his eyes between the key like birds to the large door on the other side of the chamber. He ran towards it. The sound of a handle clicking downwards echoed across the chambers which were followed by an echo of, “ ** _Alohomora!_** ”, and then followed by the sound of a blade sliding up and down the wood of the doorframe.  

Harry then spun around, throwing his arms up into the air.

“It’s locked!”

Evelyn made her way towards the door, watching out for sudden movements towards her from the colourful, flying keys.

“I’m seeing two opinions here. One, you catch the key for this door. It would be old-fashioned and rusty. Might even be silver to match the door handle.”

Harry nodded, “The other option if I can’t find the key?”

Evelyn’s wand dropped down from its holster and into her waiting grasp, and Evelyn moved her hand so that her wand was pointing at the large, wooden door. “This door gets blown off its hinges.”

“We don’t have time for Harry to find the key! What if they are already at the Stone? Evelyn, blow it up!” Neville cried, as he and Hermione ran towards the Potter-Black twins.

Evelyn shrugged, waving her hand sideways so the others would move back.

“ ** _Bombarda!_** _”_

As soon as Evelyn yelled out the incarnation, there was a loud bang and splinters of wood flew through the air. The young group coughed and choked, covering their mouths with their hands as the smoke that erupted from Evelyn’s spell swept throughout the chamber.

The next chamber they stepped into was dark. That was _until_ they had all taken a step forwards. Torches on the walls flared to life and lit up a giant black and white chessboard. The pieces were huge and tall. Possibility taller than any of the other students in the school and they were carved out of marble. Eerily, Evelyn noted, none of them had faces.

It was then that Evelyn noticed that some of the chess pieces were scattered across the board. Some were completely smashed into pieces, whilst others were simply missing a few chunks from their towering marble frames.

“I guess he’s already played through for us…” Harry muttered, carefully moving around a bishop’s fallen sword.

“What do you think is next?”

“We’ve had Professor Sprout’s, that was the Devil’s Snare, Professor Flitwick must’ve put charms on the keys, that we ignored. Professor McGonagall must have transfigured the chessmen. That leaves Professor Snape’s and Professor Quirrell’s…”

As soon as Harry pushed open the next door, a disgusting _familiar_ smell entered their nostrils. Flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one that Evelyn and Hermione had tackled on Hallowe’en, was out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

“I’m glad we didn’t have to fight than one,” Hermione whispered, her body shaking like a leaf as she remembered the last troll she had come across.

Harry stepped over one of the troll’s massive legs, his robes covering his nose.

The next room was mostly empty for all that was in the chamber was a table with seven differently shaped bottles, all standing in a perfect line.

“Professor Snape’s,” said Hermione.

As soon as they all stepped over the threshold, a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. Just like the fire in the Slytherin common room, it wasn’t its usual colours. It was bright purple.

In the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards.

Hermione didn’t seem bothered about the flaming doorways, too busy read over a roll of paper that had been lying next to the seven bottles.

After a few moments, Hermione let out a great sigh and smiled.

“ _Brilliant._ This isn’t magic, it’s _logic_ , a puzzle! A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic; they’d be stuck in here forever.” she then paused, glancing between the paper in her grasp and the bottles on the table.

“We’re stuck in there then, aren’t-”

“Of course not.” Hermione interrupted. “Seven bottles. Three are poison, two are wine and one will get us safely through the black fire and the other will get us back through the purple.”

For the next few minutes, Hermione read over the paper, walking up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing to them. Then she suddenly clapped her hands.

“Got it!” she smiled. “The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire, towards the Stone.”

Evelyn glanced down at the tiny bottle, noting that it was almost completely empty.

“There’s only enough for two of us. That’s hardly two swallows.” Harry muttered.

Everyone turned to look at each other, Hermione telling them that the rounded bottle at the right end of the table was the purple flame potion.

“You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen, get back. Grab brooms from the flying keys room, I saw them in the back of the room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy. Go _straight_ to the Owlery and send either Hedwig or Saoirse to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Quirrell off for a while, but I’m not match for him, really.”

Evelyn grasped the black flame potion in her hand, examining it briefly before tipping it back into her mouth, drinking just enough that there was still some for Harry. At his expression, she raised her eyebrows.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you go alone, dear brother?”

Hermione’s lip trembled and suddenly she dashed at Evelyn, throwing her arms around her. Neville did the same to Harry, before switching.

After a few moments, Neville and Hermione took the round bottle from the end of the table, drank it and shuddered before turning and walking straight through the purple fire, completely unharmed as though it wasn’t even there in the first place.

Evelyn nodded at her brother with a small smile as he drained the rest of the little bottle in one gulp.

They both walked through the black flames, hands clamped tight. They didn’t feel the flames and for a moment, they couldn’t see anything in the darkness of the charmed fire. Then they were on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there.


	19. Finding the Strength to Go On

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER NINETEEN  
FINDING THE STRENGTH TO GO ON

 

It was Professor Quirrell.

As soon as Harry opened his mouth to say something, Professor Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around the twins, binding their limbs to their bodies.

“I didn’t expect you to survive after I let the troll in, but you-” his eyes snapped up to meet Evelyns. “ _You._ You killed it. I wasn’t expecting you to even be able to knock it out, let alone _kill it_.”

Evelyn was terrified of the look in Professor Quirrell’s eyes, but she wasn’t going to let that show. Uncle Remus always said to never let the opponent know what you’re feeling or thinking. So she hid her fear.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you, Professor. I am planning on becoming older than eleven years old after all.”

Professor Quirrell’s nostrils flared and then he smiled, moving around to face a large mirror that stood alone at the very end of the room. The mirror itself was magnificent, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top that Evelyn could just make out.

_Erised_ _stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

The mirror made her feel strange, like if she would gaze upon its reflection that she would become in a trance like state, but the sound of Professor Quirrell’s voice broke her attention away from the mirror and towards him.

“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” he muttered, tapping his way around the frame. “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this, but he’s in London and I’ll be far away by the time he gets back…”

Evelyn exchanged a look with Harry, both knowing that they needed to keep Professor Quirrell talking, just long enough for Neville and Hermione to get Professor Dumbledore or at the very least any of the professors. Evelyn could be glad for even Professor Snape at the moment.

“I saw you and Snape in the forest-”

“Yes,” said Professor Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me, as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…”

Evelyn froze. It felt like a bucket of freezing water had been poured over her, numbing her entire being. She didn’t want to believe it, she, in fact, refused to believe it. Voldemort was _dead._ He died along with the twins’ biological parents.

Professor Quirrell had come back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into the reflection.

“I see the Stone, I’m presenting it to my master, but _where is it?”_

Evelyn saw Harry struggling against the ropes that were binding them, but they didn’t give, only tightened. Evelyn bit down on her lip so he wouldn’t hear her gasp in pain.

“You said Voldemort is by your side. Prove it.” Evelyn said, trying to move her arm to get her wand or at the very least her pouch.

“He is with me wherever I go.” said Professor Quirrell quietly. “I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.”

Professor Quirrell suddenly shivered, his fingers rising to briefly brush against his turban.

“He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me, decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…”

Professor Quirrell’s voice trailed away, but Evelyn wasn’t listening anymore, her attention was focused on his turban. She had told everyone she didn’t believe the tale Professor Quirrell had spun but now she wished she had because what she was thinking was much more frightening than that of Professor Quirrell’s glare.

“I don’t understand. Is the Stone _inside_ the mirror? Should I break it?”

Harry tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Professor Quirrell noticing, but what happened next made him freeze in his tracks.

“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”

A voice seemed to come from Professor Quirrell himself. Cold and emotionless, it ran chills down their spines that curled their toes.

“Use the boy. Use the _boy._ ”

Professor Quirrell rounded on Harry and Evelyn tried to think of something, anything, because she wasn’t about to let him lay a hand on her brother.

“How come you need Harry to get the Stone? Are you _that_ weak?” Evelyn smiled at Professor Quirrell, almost wishing she hadn’t because the look on his face was _fury._ Burning, angry, red fury. And it was directed towards her.

“Let me speak… _face to face._ ”

“Master, you are not strong enough!” Professor Quirrell cried, the fury on his face now replaced with fear.

“I have strength enough… _for this._ ”

Harry grasped Evelyn’s hand tightly. Petrified, they watched as Professor Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away and his head looked strangely small without it.

Then he turned slowly on the spot.

There was a small whimper, but Evelyn wasn’t exactly sure if it was from her or Harry. Where the back of Professor Quirrell’s head should have been, there was a face. The most terrible face they had ever been. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils like a snake.

“Potter…” it – he – whispered.

“See what I have become?” the face – Voldemort – said. “Mere shadow and vapour, I have form only when I share another’s body, but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. Unicorn blood as strengthened me, these past weeks. Once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own. Now, give me the Stone.”

Professor Quirrell stepped backwards so that Voldemort could move forward.

The ropes disappeared and Harry stumbled backwards, Evelyn gripping onto his hand to keep him steady and close to her.

“Don’t be a fool,” he snarled. “Better save your own life and the lives of those close to you and _join me._ Or you’ll meet the same end as your parents. They died begging me for mercy…”

Evelyn pulled on Harry’s arm as he suddenly jerked forward and screamed at Voldemort. Bravery wasn’t going to help them now. They needed a plan, something Voldemort wouldn’t expect…

“How touching…” Voldemort hissed. “I always value bravery. Yes, your parents were brave. I killed your father first and he put up a courageous fight. Now your mother needn’t have died. She was trying to protect you. Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.”

“They didn’t die in vain, _Voldemort._ You died too, remember?” Evelyn smiled again, tightening her grip on Harry once again as he went to move.

Voldemort’s attention snapped to Evelyn and fury was the only emotion visible.

“If I was really dead, then how am I here now, _stupid child!”_ he snarled and Evelyn couldn’t help but smile more. Fury made someone act on impulse, made reason disappear like a puff of smoke. It seemed that both Professor Quirrell and Voldemort were too proud for their own good.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, _Voldemort,_ but you are on the back of someone else’s head. I wouldn’t exactly call that being alive. It’s rather _pathetic,_ though, isn’t it? The _greatest_ Dark Lord of our time, living on the back of-”

Voldemort suddenly snarled in fury and Quirrell’s body moved forwards – backwards – and then lunged at her, throwing her against the nearby wall. She heard rather than felt the crack as her skull hit the stone wall. All she can feel now was a liquid dripping down her face, so thick that she couldn’t see through her right eye.

When a few droplets hit the cobblestone floor was when Evelyn realised it was blood.

Her blood.

The sound of loud coughing and gasping drew Evelyn’s attention away from the small pool of blood forming around her and made her look up. Professor Quirrell had both hands around Harry’s neck and Harry’s legs were kicking as hard as he could, but he took no notice of that fact and continued to tighten his hands around the neck in his grasp.

Suddenly Professor Quirrell howled in agony and dropped Harry, who hit the floor with not as much force as Evelyn had flown into the wall with.

“Master, I cannot hold him. My hands, my hands!”

Evelyn groaned as she crawled closer to her brother. She needed to check if he was okay.

As soon as Evelyn clasped Harry’s hand, she felt the faintest pulsing of the veins in his wrist. Her moment of relief was interrupted when Professor Quirrell raised his hands towards Harry.

His hands were burned, raw, red, and almost shining.

Evelyn rose with shaking limbs and stood in front of her brother. Then Professor Quirrell stalked towards them once more, Voldemort’s face still at the front and his hand held up towards them.

Evelyn didn’t think. She just acted.

With a speed that was thanks to years of morning jogs and Defences classes, Evelyn slammed her body into Professor Quirrell’s and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. She could hear a sizzling, could see the burns that were appearing across his body, even with one eye covered in her own thick, red blood.

Professor Quirrell screamed and the sound rang in Evelyn’s ears, the pain in her head building to the point where it was almost burning and he tried to throw her off, hitting her against walls, his fingernails digging deeply into her skin and everything _hurt._

But, she wouldn’t let go. He was determined to kill her brother. The _monster_ in front of her had already stolen away her biological parents, tried to steal her brother. She wouldn’t let it happen. Not whilst she was still alive. Not whilst she could still move.

Professor Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, ‘Kill her! _Kill her!_ ’, faded away into a toneless buzz of noise. She couldn’t think, the burning in her head and the buzzing in her ear was preventing her from thinking anything besides the fact that she _had_ to keep them both away from her brother.

Professor Quirrell’s body was suddenly wrenched from her grasp and Evelyn tripped over something, she couldn’t see exactly what. Her blood had dripped down over both eyes now, blinding her.

She finally fell into unconscious, no longer having the strength to stand.


	20. Don't Want to Leave

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TWENTY  
DON’T WANT TO LEAVE

 

“ _Evelyn. Evelyn_.”

Evelyn tried to move her head towards the voice but there were intense piercing pains shooting throughout her body. Everything sounded almost unidentifiable, an extremely loud buzzing sound rang in her ears, the sound magnifying the pressure and pain she could feel in her head.

She twitched her fingers, for it was much less painful than trying to move her head, and there was a soft, quick gasp of breath as soon as she was able to move a few of her fingers.

“Evelyn?”

She tried to open her eyes, but her surroundings were so _bright_ and there was no colour. It hurt her eyes. There was a pressure that felt like it was behind her eyes, a burning and sharp shooting pain. There was also a throbbing pain, almost like someone had stabbed her in the eyes.

She tried again, and again, and again.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Evelyn could see blurred, coloured shapes flashing above her face. Slowly the coloured shapes merged together and Evelyn could see them take form.

“ _Daddy.”_ she croaked, staring as a blurry grey shape take the form of her father.

“Evelyn!” he smiled, almost jerked forward before he stopped, his eyes quickly trailing her body as he then sank back into his chair, running shaking fingers through a mess of black hair.

After a moment, Sirius looked down at his daughter and cupped her cheek softly, tears quickly making their way down his face and his grey eyes were practically swimming in salty water.

As Evelyn slowly looked around the room, she realised why it had hurt her eyes so. She was in the Hospital Wing. Everything was so bright and almost everything was in white. Even the bed she was lying in had white linen sheets. Looking down, Evelyn realised why her father had jerked back so suddenly. Every part of her body that was visible and not covered with clothing was wrapped in bandages.

She swallowed, hoping to get rid of the croaky noise that was currently her voice.

Her eyes flickered over her father’s shoulder and confusion washed over her, for behind her father was an extremely large and completely covered table that looked like someone had raided a sweet shop of half of its merchandise.

“Where is… Harry,” she finally said, having noticed that she was the only person currently lying in one of the many hospital beds.

“He woke up a few days ago, pup.”

A few days ago slowly registered in Evelyn’s mind. _Days._ She tried looking around for any indication for how long _she_ had been in the Hospital Wing.

Sirius knew what his daughter was doing as soon as her eyes started darting around the Hospital Wing. He looked over her bandaged body once again, letting the fact that he had almost _lost_ her registered in his mind. Madam Pomfrey had said that if she was found another minute later, she might not have survived.

He remembered seeing her without the bandages as soon as he had arrived, everything from top to bottom was covered in bruises of a multitude of hues, colours that should not be on someone’s skin. There were garish purple splotches, roughly the size of a fist, whilst others were more greyish, but they looked just as bad as the others. There weren’t just bruises making the body of his beautiful little girl. Cuts ran across her body like someone had dug their fingernails so deep into her skin that they tore some of her flesh.

Madam Pomfrey said that because she had used Essence of Dittany on Evelyn’s body immediately after seeing her wounds, that she shouldn’t have any lasting scarring.

“You’ve been here almost a week, pup.”

“A week?” Evelyn parroted, staring up at her father in disbelief.

It was then that Evelyn noticed the look in her father’s eyes. Behind the watery cover was a cold look, like whenever someone mentioned Peter Pettigrew to him.

“Dad?”

Sirius sighed, caressing the back of her limp hand like he always used to do when she was upset or… or when he was about to tell her news that she didn’t want to hear.

“No,” she said, her eyes wide, for she knew what her father was about to say.

“Evelyn, _please._ You almost died. I almost lost you. From the obstacles your brother told me about, it is clear that Dumbledore knew someone was going to try and obtain the Stone. Bringing that sort of danger into a school, a _school,_ was just asking for disaster. I will _not_ allow my children to stay in a place where they are put into any sort of danger. The troll was bad enough, but _this?!_ I’m pulling you and your brother from Hogwarts.”

“Daddy, please.” Evelyn insisted. “Don’t take me from school. I’ve finally made a friend! I don’t want to leave her.”

Sirius shook his head. “I’m sorry, pup, but my mind is made up. You can still see your friend, she is always welcome to come over to see you, but you are not staying at Hogwarts.”

He then let out a long breath and with the utmost care, he buried his face into his daughter’s hair for a long, silent moment. Gathering his wits, he then pulled away from her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “We will discuss it later. I have a meeting with Dumbledore.”

Evelyn watched as her father strode out of the Hospital Wing, his hands clenched into fists that hung at his side. She didn’t blame him for trying to keep her safe, but she wasn’t going to be a child forever and he had to let her grow up sometime.

If her father had his way, Harry and she would most likely be locked up in Black Manor for the remainder of their lives. With an endless amount of gasps and grunts of pain, Evelyn slowly pushed away the bed covers and slid out of bed, only to nearly collapse into a heap from the overwhelming dizziness that hit her like a Bludger.

She quickly grabbed the nearest thing to steady herself, taking a moment to clear her head.

She knew she had almost died but her father wasn’t exactly careful when he was at school either. He would spend endless moons in the forest with a werewolf that had no control of its mind. He could have died just as easily as she could have.

“Miss Potter-Black!”

Evelyn jerked forward, her hands slipping from the table she had grabbed to steady herself and hands quickly grasped her underneath her armpits, almost like she was a baby, and Evelyn found herself being put back onto the bed and bed covers being wrapped tightly around her.

Madam Pomfrey stood above her, angrily telling her that she needed her bed rest.

With a sigh, Evelyn let her head drop onto the pillow and she closed her eyes. She drifted to sleep almost instantly.


	21. Mirror Mirror

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE  
MIRROR MIRROR

 

Evelyn sighed in relief as she pulled the covers tighter around her. Her father had finally left after Madam Pomfrey had reassured him that after another day of rest, Evelyn could have almost completely recovered from her injuries.

She just _couldn't_ rest.

She had been bothered about something that had happened during the Stone incident. The mirror that had stood in the back of the chamber had given her a strange feeling like it had been drawing her nearer it, for her to gaze upon its reflection.

With her head still in an almost burning like state, it pained her to try and remember the inscription that had been written across the mirrors frame.

"Erised stra ehru oy tube cafru oyt on wohsi."

Frowning, Evelyn knew at once that what she had just said was in fact not the correct inscription that had been on the mysterious mirror. The middle of it had not sat right with her.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi, that's it," Evelyn smiled, gently brushing her fingers against her forehead to try and relieve the pain building up in her head.

With the correct words of the inscription now known to her, Evelyn leant over to the table next to her and grabbed her pouch, trying carefully to not knock over any of the sweets and candies that had piled even higher than the last time she had laid eyes on them.

She then took out a completely empty notebook, her quill and self-refilling inkpot. Opening the book on the third empty page, she drew a sketch of the mirror, taking care to draw in every detail of the mirror she could remember seeing.

The inscription wasn't in any language Evelyn knew and she knew roughly six already, so Evelyn leant over to the table once again and grabbed her wand.

" _ **Flagrate!**_ " she said, tracing the inscription through the air in shimmering letters.

Studying the inscription in larger, brighter text did not cause the effort she had hoped it would. As she was about to give up, she noticed that the last word when read backwards was, I show.

With a flick of her wand, the letters of the inscription rearranged themselves into:

Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire

"Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire."

Evelyn blinked in confusion before repeating the inscription slower than she had before and she could almost hear certain words connecting with one another and others splitting apart.

With the words still fresh in her mind, Evelyn quickly wrote them down on the page before her sketch of the mirror. The inscription made sense. Professor Quirrell had seen himself in the mirrors reflection but he had seen himself with the Stone which he did not in fact have in his possession.

The mirror showed the person their heart's desire and apparently Professor Quirrell's heart's desire was to give the Stone to his master. To Voldemort. Voldemort had said that Harry was the key to getting the Stone and the only thing in the chamber with them had been that mirror so it would make sense that Harry would have been able to get the Stone from within the mirror.

It also made sense that the mirror had in fact been the Mirror of Erised, purely for the fact the beginning of the unreversed inscription had in fact been Erised.

"Good afternoon, Evelyn."

Without a moment's hesitation, Evelyn had slammed her notebook shut and locked the clasp as the smiling form of Albus Dumbledore walked into the Hospital Wing.

"Hello, Headmaster."

"How are you feeling, dear girl?"

"I am well, Headmaster. Madam Pomfrey said that I only have to spend one more night here."

"I feared I might have been too late."

Evelyn looked up at the Headmaster in confusion before realisation washed over her. The force that had ripped Professor Quirrell from her grasp. That must have been Professor Dumbledore.

"You almost were, Headmaster. I did not have much strength left to kept Professor Quirrell away from my brother and in turn, away from the Stone."

Professor Dumbledore smiled, "Not the Stone, dear girl, you. The effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

Evelyn nodded, not at all surprised with the course of action that Nicolas Flamel had taken with the artefact that he had created. The Stone should not have been created in the first place, it had too much power for one person.

"Then Nicolas Flamel and his wife are to die, for they have been relying on the Stone for too long."

Evelyn noticed the look that past across the Headmaster's face; surprise, shock and something else that she could not in fact place. The fact that she talked about death so easily had probably shocked the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

But Evelyn had known for many years now that life hurt a lot more than death and that the goal of all life was in fact, death. She had accepted that many years ago.

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore after a moment, his voice sounded quite delighted but Evelyn could tell that it was almost fake, a cover for his shock. "You _did_ do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best."

"Voldemort is going to find other ways of returning. He hasn't gone."

"No, Evelyn, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share. Not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die, he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Evelyn, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seemed a losing battle next time, and if he is delayed again, and again why, he may never return to power."

Evelyn looked at the Headmaster with a calculated glance, before asking him what had been troubling her since she had been awake after the incident.

"Why couldn't Professor Quirrell touch me nor Harry?"

"Your mother died to save you both. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that love as powerful as your mother's love for you both leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign. To been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch either of you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Professor Dumbledore now seemed incredibly interested in a bird out on the windowsill whilst Evelyn stared at him for she had never heard of magic like he had just spoken of and wondered if her father and the rest of her family knew of such magic.

"The Mirror of Erised, why would Harry have been able to get the Stone from it?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to _find_ the Stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it, otherwise, they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprised even me sometimes. Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them, but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

Professor Dumbledore then smiled and popped a golden brown bean into his mouth. There was a moment's pause before he choked and said, "Alas! Earwax!"


	22. A Change of Decoration

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO  
A CHANGE OF DECORATION

 

Having been through one last check up, Evelyn made her way down to the end of year feast. Arriving in the already full Great Hall, Evelyn noticed the blue and bronze hangings decorating the hall in celebration of Ravenclaw's winning of the House Cup and a large banner showing the Ravenclaw eagle graced the wall behind the High Table.

"Evelyn!"

Evelyn's attention snapped to the source of the voice and she only had a second to brace herself as she was suddenly engulfed by a bushy haired figure who was simultaneously laughing and crying into her good shoulder. "I was _so_ worried! You've been asleep for so long!"

Evelyn whined weakly as Hermione's arms tighten around her, but she said nothing, allowing her best friend to take relief in the fact that she was in fact, _not_ dead.

"Come on, let's sit down." Hermione smiled, wiping tears away with the sleeve of her robes, directing Evelyn over to the Gryffindor table to slip into a seat between Neville and Harry.

Harry instantly grabbed her good hand, smiling at her brightly before kissing her cheek whilst Neville kissed her other cheek. She also tried to ignore the fact that there seemed to be people standing up to look at her and she was grateful when Professor Dumbledore rose to speak.

"Another year gone!" he said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were, you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before the next year starts."

There was a chatter of laughter throughout the hall and Evelyn used the distraction to tighten the bandages around her left hand as they had begun to unwind.

"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points, in third, Gryffindor, with three hundred and seventy-four, in second, Slytherin, with four hundred and twenty and in first, Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-six."

The Ravenclaw table erupted into cheering and the sound made Evelyn feel like one of her eardrums had been popped.

"Yes, yes, well done, Ravenclaw. However, recent events must be taken into account."

Silence descended the Ravenclaw table at the Headmaster's words.

"Ahem," smiled Professor Dumbledore, looking across the entire hall. "I have a few last minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes… First to Mister Neville Longbottom."

Neville choked, almost spitting out his pumpkin juice back into his goblet and Evelyn smiled as Harry smacked him on his back, which only made him choke more.

"For his knowledge in Herbology, that in turn saved those in great peril. I award Hufflepuff House, fifty points."

Hufflepuff cheers filled the hall and Neville's face began to turn a bright pink. A few moments passed before there was silent. Evelyn could see that almost everyone was leaning forward to look at Professor Dumbledore, even more closely now.

"Second to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Ravenclaw House, fifty points."

Ravenclaws were up and down in their seats, their cheers – deafening. They had been pushed even further ahead of the rest of the Houses now. Evelyn grasped Hermione's hand as she buried her face in her arms and Evelyn strongly suspected that she had just burst into tears.

"Third to Mister Harry Potter-Black," said Professor Dumbledore, "for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House, sixty points."

Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves and their cheers seemed to make the stars overhead quiver with the force of their cheers. Even though they couldn't win the House Cup, they didn't seem to care about that detail, instead focusing on the fact that Harry had just won them sixty points and pushed them in front of Slytherin House.

Professor Dumbledore then raised his hand and the room gradually fell into silent.

"It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to our enemies. But, it takes far more courage to stand _between_ our enemies and those we love to protect them from harm. I, therefore, award _sixty_ points to Miss Evelyn Potter-Black."

There was an eruption of noise from the direction of the Slytherin table as they all did the math in their heads and moans and groans from the other Houses once they all realised that Slytherin had won back the House Cup to continue their seven-year reign.

"Which means," Professor Dumbledore called over the yells of applause, "we need a little change of decoration."

He then clapped his hands together and in an instant, the blue hangings became green and the bronze became silver; the huge Ravenclaw eagle vanished and a towering Slytherin snake took its place. Professor Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand and he caught Evelyn's eye and Evelyn thought that for a moment she could see a hint of approval.

In all the excitement, Evelyn had almost forgotten that she still didn't know the results of her exams.

_Almost._


	23. The End Of The Year

The Bonds That Shape Us

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE  
THE END OF THE YEAR

 

“You beat me!”

Evelyn paused, turned her attention away from the piece of parchment in her hand and found a mess of bushy brown hair hovering over her goblet of orange juice.

“You have the second best grades, Hermione.” Evelyn smiled as she noticed the jokingly angry look in Hermione’s twinkling brown eyes.

Evelyn had done extremely well in all her lessons and had ended up having the best grades of the entire first years whilst Hermione had followed closely behind her, followed by Draco.

Harry and Neville had passed with fairly good marks as well.

Soon wardrobes were emptied, trunks were packed, notes were handed out to all students – warning them not to use magic over the holidays – and soon enough they were on their way to the Hogwarts Express. Evelyn found a compartment with Harry, Hermione and Neville. She watched in amusement as Neville tried to get Trevor to stay still enough for him to change out of his school robes and Hermione was trying to look at the sketch of herself that Evelyn had drawn during their exam study sessions in the library.

“You’ll all write, won’t you?” Hermione asked once they were nearing King’s Cross Station.

As everyone assured her that they would, the brunette wrapped her arms around Evelyn. “Thank you for becoming my friend, Evelyn.”

Evelyn smiled, “I should be thanking you Hermione.”

As soon as they pulled at up platform nine and three quarters, everyone piled off the train and onto the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so that they didn’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid concrete wall at once and alarming the passing muggles and people jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway that led back into the muggle world. Some of them called;

“Bye, Harry!”

“See you, Potter!”

Neville grinned at Harry, which caused Harry to bump him with his shoulder as they passed through the gateway together.

“There he is, mum, there he is, look!”

Evelyn looked up, turning towards the source of the _extremely_ loud and childlike voice. It was a petite girl with flaming red hair that was worn in a long mane and freckles were scattered across her face. She was stood next to a short, plump woman who also had flaming red hair but it seemed to be fading into a light grey at parts.

“Five sickles that is Weasley’s family.”

Evelyn huffed, rolling her eyes at her brother who was almost daring her to take his bet. Harry laughed loudly at his twin’s facial expression and soon enough the young girl was staring straight at Harry with wide brown eyes.

“Harry Potter!” she squealed. “Look, mum! I can see-”

“Be quiet, Ginny, and it’s rude to point.”

The woman then smiled down at Harry, eyes only briefly scanning across Neville, Evelyn and Hermione as though she was wondering why they were standing next to Harry and not her son, who Harry had told them months ago, had tried to struck up a friendship with him whilst also insulting Evelyn for being in Slytherin.

Needless to say, it didn’t go too well.

“Hey, Uncle Sirius.”

Evelyn almost jumped out of skin as her father seemed to materialise behind her, his usual smile across his face and for once he wasn’t dressed in his Auror robes, instead settling for a pair of jeans, a grey shirt and a long black trench coat with a grey and black scarf dangling loosely around his neck.

“Dad!” Evelyn smiled, almost jumping up to wrap her arms around her father’s neck as he laughed his bark like laugh and tightened his arms around her, almost balancing her on his hip as he used his other hand to ruff Harry’s hair.

“There’s my parents! See you guys!” Hermione laughed, running off towards a brown haired couple that was off in the distance, only now approaching the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters.

“Come on, we better hurry up, I’ve left Moony with your grandmother.”

Evelyn, Harry and Neville exchanged looks at once. Leaving Uncle Remus with Grandma Augusta was just waiting for a disaster to happen. Last time he had been left alone with their grandmother, Remus hasn’t spoken to Sirius for an entire week.

They still hadn’t found what the reason was behind it.


End file.
